Just Harry
by fantasyra
Summary: The final installment in the Eight Shades Series. Spoilers for all prior story's inside. Independent, Highly skilled but not god like Harry, Timetravel. Harry finds himself once again 15, with all the memories from all Seven of his prior Shades.
1. Prolouge

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

Notice: Normally I would wait till the note at the bottom but this story is a special case. Just Harry is the last and final installment of the series I started called 'The Eight Shades'. As such, at the time of this posting The Fallen General is in Rewrite and the Marauders Vanguard is incomplete as well waiting for the last few chapters to be completed. The only story that is listed in its entirety is Master of Assassins. This does not mean these stories are not finished; they are just in rewrite as I fix plot holes, and other things. So, this story has mad spoilers, especially for any readers of the Marauders Vanguard. I have many chapters done, and will post them based on Reviews. The more reviews, the fast I will post. Thank you.

**Prologue**

"_I always hear, 'Going back in time to your old self would be brilliant, think of all the things you can redo and make better!' What a load of shite. Yeah, you get to change things, but what people don't realize is the first thing to change, is you. After that happens, everything goes straight down the loo."_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

**The Marauders Vanguard, The Seventh Shade**

Thanks to Dobby and Winky the full Marauders Vanguard, sans Harry Potter, was able to meet within the confines of Chamber of Secrets, their unofficial headquarters. A place where in the few times they all gathered was the only place Harry trusted for meetings to take place. Harry had keyed them to the wards he laid down on top of the original set that were created by Salazar Slytherin himself. Ordinarily they would not have done such a thing without his approval or orders, but they also took direction from Neville and Hermione who was the one to call them together, and as they all knew it was the only place they could talk freely about anything they wished without risk of being eavesdropped on.

Harry's place was empty within the circle of settees, chesterfields, and armchairs occupied by the Vanguard; notably empty in fact, and everyone was sending sad looks at it occasionally. The rest of the members sat in their usual places with long faces, dark bags under their eyes from lack of sleep, and shoulders slumped as if from defeat - despite the victory that they had achieved not long ago.

Neville Longbottom, Harry's left hand, sat leaning forward on the chesterfield with Susan Bones and Ginny Weasley beside him; his fingers steeped and his unshaven chin resting on them. Across from him sat Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger. Luna appeared focused, which was odd in itself and everyone around had taken particular note of this fact, whereas Hermione seemed very distracted by something. None of them needed to guess why that was; Harry hadn't yet awoken from the coma caused by his failed suicide attempt.

"Okay Hermione, we're here, what's going on?" Neville asked.

Luna looked about at everyone before she spoke. Her tone, normally hazy as if touched by daydreams only she could imagine was one of command, a voice that demanded you listen, and everyone did.

"Harry is not improving. Madam Pomfrey is planning to have him committed to the long-term spell damage ward at St. Mungo's later this week. No one has been able to figure out what is wrong with him. He will likely never wake again."

Fred and George Weasley bowed their heads at the news. They had harbored hope that Harry, who had done all manner of impossible things already, would somehow beat whatever was ailing him. They hoped that when he woke they could help him through what ever had driven him to leap from the astronomy tower to his death. The news he was not going to recover was very difficult for them. They thought of Harry not just as their leader, but also as a brother in all but blood.

Susan sniffed. She had been in an almost complete state of tears since the battle where her Aunt had died. Ginny laid her head on Neville's shoulder silently shaking; she too had thought of Harry as a brother, once she had gotten over her crush on him. The four Slytherins were stoic at the news. Even amongst friends they refused to show emotion. Everyone knew them well enough however, to know that they felt his loss as much as the rest did.

Luna tucked a strand of loose blond hair behind her ear as she resumed speaking. In harsh contrast to the calm tone to her voice, her expression and face were filled with anguish and misery. Swollen red eyes and a slight shake to her hand were the only giveaways to her own pain at Harry's condition. "The problem is that Harry is disconnected within himself. His body, though repaired, is constantly fighting the taint of the Lycanthrope infection, his mind is broken and his soul is burdened. He is without harmony, and without it his magic has become unstable. It is also possible Harry himself does not wish to be healed - hence the imbalance. There is no real treatment for this condition as it has never existed before." She tilted her head slightly, "That, and his healers will not listen to me when I try to explain what I see in his aura."

Neville nodded his head. This was Luna's way sometimes. They all had just excepted that Luna just knew things and not to question it much when she was serious, but when she was explaining things like this it meant she needed people to understand why she was about to say something insane. "We follow you. What don't we know?"

"We can save Harry. But it's complicated." Hermione sniffed. Neville waved his hand for her to continue. At this moment she had everyone's attention. "Hermione has an idea. However, it involves an illegal, untested Ritual and breaking Ministry and Natural Laws."

Susan looked at Luna a bit funny before turning to Hermione. "What's your idea Hermione?"

Hermione looked up for the first time and Neville almost flinched. Her eyes were swollen from crying and she looked dreadful, as if she had not slept in weeks. Considering how long Harry had been in a coma, it's was possible she hadn't. "My idea was to send Harry back." Her voice was broken from disuse and she had to clear her throat a few times.

"Wait, you mean back in time? Are you serious Hermione?" Susan looked at the sniffling brunette with wide, shocked eyes, and the others listened, intrigued at the possibility; Hermione rarely came up with ideas that did not result in what she wanted, were not ridiculously researched, or well thought out. If nothing else this was the first time she had spoken to anybody since she read his final letter.

Hermione smiled just a tiny bit at Susan's words but nodded. "I have actually been working on this Ritual since third year when McGonagall gave me the Time Tuner to attend all my classes. My idea was that if Harry ever got in a bad way I could use the spell to change things up or do like we did with Sirius; things unfolded the same way, but not the same. However, I couldn't find a way to make the spell do what I wanted. I had more success once I reformatted the base idea into a Ritual."

Hermione took a moment to straighten out her legs a bit. "I managed a working model by mid-5th year but it did not work right. It was not until I joined the Vanguard and Harry had me doing all that research with Luna that things started coming together.

"Largely thanks to the Book of the Martyr and Luna's knowledge of Runes we are pretty sure we can send Harry back to the beginning of Sixth year. We could save everyone who fell in the battle, end the war earlier and save Harry all at one go."

Still with her head on Neville's shoulder Ginny asked the question on everybody's minds, "How?"

"If it works Harry will have all of his memories when he goes back. With the Horcruxes we spent most of this year trying to figure out what they were and where they were hidden, not to mention how to destroy them. He could gather them all up, destroy them, and then simply wait in ambush at the first location Voldemort shows himself and… well, assassinate him."

Fred looked around and asked the question that was bothering all of them. "What about us? Harry does that and none of us will be friends anymore. He won't form the Vanguard."

Luna had a sad smile on her face but nodded. "Yes. Nothing in the last year will ever have happened for any of us. None of us will have become friends. Our loved ones will not have died. At least those that have died in the last year." Luna dropped her eyes down whispering just loud enough for them all to hear. "Never loved…"

Neville looked at the fragile Ravenclaw sympathetically. Of those here he was the only one who knew of her secret relationship with Harry, or rather the secret of just how far and deep it had gone for Luna. He didn't know why they broke up, just that one day Luna told him they were no longer seeing each other. He had a feeling it had something to do with his fellow Gryiffindor sitting next to her but whatever the answer, it was only known to the three of them. At his side Susan spoke into the sudden silence following Luna's statement.

"I should mention that if this conversation is ever discovered all of us will be spending at the least a dozen years in Azkaban. The penalty for what you are talking about doing is life in prison. If caught, we're all looking at being thrown through the Veil of Death, especially as this would be taken as an effort to resurrect Voldemort in a roundabout way. Not to mention even the Unspeakables are banned from practicing time magic because of the theory that it could unbalance the very fabric of our world and lay it to ruin."

Everyone had a thoughtful look on their faces as they all fell silent once again. It was Hermione who broke it this time. "He would do it for any of us… he almost killed himself healing me last summer. I... I want to do this. I know it will work."

Daphne Greengrass spoke for the first time. "The question is should we?" At the look everyone gave her she lifted her chin defiantly. "Someone has to say it. If Harry was here and this was about any of us and no one asked that question he would have. Should we throw everything we have right now away for the hope it could be better?"

Neville nodded in agreement. "Daphne is right. We are literally talking about destroying the current timeline if we succeeded or ourselves if it fails." He gave them a moment to digest what he said. "I think we need to do this together or not at all. A vote to decide then."

Neville stood up drawing all eyes to him. "Harry." Hermione and Luna rose silently adding their votes to his. Fred and George quickly rose along with Ginny and Susan but not quite before the Slytherins stood themselves making the vote unanimous amongst the surviving Vanguard. Neville looked around and nodded once more. "Okay then, it's quite clear that we're going to do this then – consequences be damned. What do we need to do Hermione?"

xxxxxx

Through some rather elaborate trickery the entire Vanguard managed to get the Hospital Wing to themselves. Hermione and Luna were just about done feeding Harry the potions he needed for the Ritual when the door burst open and a disheveled Ginny rushed in. She was gasping for breath with her hands on her knees for several moments before she looked up at the two others. "We've been found out. Every Auror who survived the war is here with Kingsley at the head. They told Neville they were here to arrest you and the fight broke out. Neville's got them bottlenecked at the stair way leading up here and the rest of the Vanguard has taken up positions along the corridor."

It was the worst-case scenario they had worried about the most. Hermione turned to Luna when she felt a tap on her shoulder and saw that she had determination burning in her eyes; her jaw set. "Go, I can take care of the runes while you stall for time. I need about fifteen minutes and everything will be ready for you."

"You sure Luna?"

The young blond nodded. "Yes."

Hermione grabbed her wand and with Ginny leading the way she rushed out the doors. She could see several fortified positions along the hallway as they rushed to help Neville at the stairs. Fred, George, Susan, Daphne, Lisa, Tracy, and Sam were all bunkered down; wands and other odds and ends at the ready as they whispered amongst themselves, making plans.

As they were rushing to Neville they noticed him bunkered down behind what looked like a four foot tall steel plate. Spells of all kinds flew up the stairway from their attackers below. They had almost reached the safety of Neville's cover when they heard a shout far too close. An Auror canceled his disillusionment charm and stood between Neville and them with his wand raised.

"Granger's here!" with that he slashed his wand downward and a purple flame spell began to race toward her. For the first time since the Department of Mysteries battle, Hermione froze. It was the same spell that almost killed her before and all she could think about was what it was like the last time it hit. Suddenly Ginny had thrown her to the ground which broke her out of her fear and spurred her to action. Twin voices shouted the same spell and two killing green curses struck the Auror dropping him to the stone floor under his feet.

Hermione only just noticed the spell meant for her had struck Ginny. Hermione was shaking while Neville crawled over to them with a disbelieving look in his eyes while tears fell from them all. The curses and spells from below had stopped the second the attackers heard them use the Unforgiveables.

Ginny looked in pain when they rolled her over but her eyes where clear. "Don't…worry about me. You're going to fix everything…"

Hermione couldn't speak but nodded. She watched as Ginny turned a bit raising up her hand to cup Neville's cheek. "Love…you…" As she said the words her breath become more of a ragged gasp as she fought to draw breath.

Neville leaned down and gently kissed her lips. "Love you tiger…" His words barely heard over Ginny rattled breathing, and last exhale.

Hermione felt her tears falling when she heard McGonagall's voice from below at the bottom of the stairway. "Ms. Granger. Call off this foolishness, please before someone gets hurt! By Circe you're using Unforgivables now!"

Hermione replied from Neville's conjured cover, her rage over Ginny's death clearly heard in her voice. "Ginny's DEAD McGonagall! By the wand of an Auror! You stand there preaching to me over using Unforgivables when an Auror just killed a Sixteen year old Girl?"

A Second voice was heard only seconds after she ended her rant. "Vanguard, we have over fifty Aurors down here, surrender! We are only here to stop Ms. Granger from tampering with Time; there is no reason for anyone else to get hurt! Throw down your Wands!"

Hermione heard the beastly growl from Neville as she watched him pick up the body of the Auror they killed and throw it down the stairway to land in a heap at McGonagall's and the Auror who was talking feet. She watched as Neville uttered one of the darkest curses they had ever researched. The Vanguard did not use such spells; they had researched it to find a way to defend against it because Death Eaters were known for such things.

The corpse of the Auror suddenly flared up and exploded sending both Auror and McGonagall out of sight in a shower of blood, bone shards, and gore. Neville's defiant cry echoing along the stone counterpoint to the explosion below. "COME AND GET THEM!"

Neville knelt down behind the cover with Hermione. "You make this right Hermione. I'll hold them here as long as I can. You make this better. For everyone's sake. Go, we'll buy the time you need."

"Neville…" he just nodded grimly at her. Hermione gave him a quick bone crushing hug before she started rushing back to the Infirmary where Luna and Harry were.

As she was making her way along she heard Neville give a great beastly cry and the last look she gave to her friend before she ran through the doors was of the huge Bear that was his Animagus form, and the screams of pain has he rushed down the steps tearing into the enemy ranks.

Those she past nodded their commitment. They had all seen Ginny fall; the Vanguard now regarded the Aurors as no better than Death Eaters, and that meant the gloves were off.

Hermione for her part rushed back into the hospital wing. Luna was just finishing the last of the section of the ritual circle around Harry's bed. Luna looked over her shoulder at her. "It's ready." Behind her the sounds of battle started to grow closer mingled with explosions and the screams of the dying.

Hermione nodded her head. The rest was purely on her now. Luna rose to her full height before she walked directly in front of Hermione. Outside they could both hear the sounds of the battle getting even closer.

Luna looked directly into Hermione's eyes for a moment before she spoke. "I love him even knowing he couldn't love me the way I wished. I am not sure any of us who loved him could compete with his first true love."

Hermione wrinkled her brow in confusion. Of all the mysterious things Luna has said in the years of their friendship none of them had confused her more than this. "Luna…"

"I will hold them at the door for as long as I can. You will not waste this chance Hermione. Even if the road is darker than you realize or could imagine. Good luck."

Hermione nodded grimly at the quirky blond. "Thank you Luna."

After a quick hug they separated with Luna leaving the room and Hermione setting herself within the Rune Scape. When she began chanting the walls of Hogwarts trembled, were unbeknownst to anyone, the semi sentient castle helped rescue one of her favorite children.

**Just Harry, The Eighth Shade**

In the perfectly normal country of Great Britain there existed many normal places. One such place was called Surrey, where there was a perfectly normal district known as Little Whinging. Like many similar suburbs this one had many normal homes housing many perfectly normal people. One such home was located on Privet Drive - number Four to be precise. The owners of said home would have been the first to inform any who asked they were perfectly normal people, thank you very much. This however, was not a complete truth. On this particular summer evening 'normal' was not something that could be said about one young man who also lived in Number Four Privet Drive.

Said young man lay in a small camp cot barely long enough for his frame. He was dressed in pants that would have fit three of him if not for the belt wound twice around his waist, his chest bare to the summer night and covered with a light sheen of sweet. Had anyone been watching, the perspiration could easily have been put down to the warmth of the air that stifled the smallest bedroom of the house… at least until the young man's body twitched. A moment later he twitched again. It was peaceful for a few moments until the young man's body stiffened, and then started convulsing violently. For over half an hour the black-haired, fifteen-year-old's body flopped about. Thick foam spilled from his tightly clenched mouth. His limbs flailed about without direction in the small bed, hitting the walls and floor of the room as his head rocked about randomly. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the body stilled. All remained quiet in the house for several minutes until the sound of something breaking in the kitchen shattered the stillness.

Harry Potter opened his eyes at hearing that something. His breathing was rapid from a massive surge of adrenalin that seemed to have replaced his blood. Harry found his head clouded with too many thoughts each screaming for his attention. Battles; loves; hates; sorrows; deaths… Several lifetimes of experiences exploded about in his skull fracturing his mind as if it was a glass plate just run through by a lorry.

The sound of the lock unlatching on the door in the room he was in managed what he himself could not do thus far: focus himself. Harry sat straight up in his bed and watched what appeared to be his old bedroom door swing open revealing the darkened hallway on the other side.

Harry fought for breath but only managed short quick jerks of his lungs. He could feel his heart pound madly in his chest while he tried to focus through the red haze that seemed to cloud his vision. With a shaking hand he reached to his night stand quickly put on his glasses. He barely noted it did nothing to clear up the haze. He vaguely heard voices coming from somewhere outside the door.

_Where am I?_ Harry looked around taking note he appeared to be in his old bedroom at his Aunt and Uncles house. He narrowed his hearing and clearly heard the sound of light footsteps coming up the stairway. The creak of the third step past the first landing, a step both Dudley and himself knew to avoid when they snuck through the house at night. The creak didn't sound so deep for him to think that his uncle made the noise and his Aunt never wandered about at night thanks to the valiums she took each night to sleep. Neither did the voices belong to his 'family'. His flight or fight instincts kicked up a notch. His breathing quicken even more and his eyes darted side to side as he attempted to figure out what was going on. _Unknown voices… I'm not supposed to be here… I don't know how I got here… I SHOULDN'T be here… Have to leave… Voices not going to let me... Not in friendly hands… In Dangerous hands… Voices must be enemies… _Harry looked up still breathing hard as the soft footsteps sounded just outside the door about to enter the room. _Soft footsteps… creeping… someone attempting stealth… Escape… _Harry thought. He had to escape.

Cautiously he eased out of the bed as quiet as an owl swooping in for its kill. His bare feet slid across the floorboards beneath him silently. Harry watched as the tip of a wand slowly inched into view. Time seemed to slow. Seconds felt like minutes and the red haze around his vision seemed to deepen narrowing his vision while he silently moved into position. His entire being focused through the visions of battles past as they blew through his mind. Actions, counteractions, how to fight, dodge, incapacitate, and kill. When he saw the arm holding the wand come into view he acted.

Harry reached out to grab the wrist of the arm holding the wand, quickly striking upward with his left hand to shatter the bones in the arm. With a quick tug he jerked the body attached to the arm into the room with him spinning quickly; going back-to-back with whoever his attacker was. Quickly giving a reverse elbow into the soft tissue just below the figure's ribcage dropping the figure from the fight. The strike quickly silenced the screams of pain that erupted just a moment prior. The shattered arm and scream told him the fallen woman was not used to receiving pain nor did she expect any resistance. By the way she fell unconscious after the strike to the body she folded easily which told him she not a veteran or tough fighter.

Harry's assessment barely registered on his conscious mind as he completed his spin and snatched the forgotten wand out the air. He threw a silent banisher into the newest target to present itself a millisecond later. Harry reasoned that they must have been right behind the first one. Whoever it was seemed completely unprepared to get hit by the over-charged spell. The body flew directly into the wall adjacent to the doorway in which Harry stood, tearing through drywall and wood as if it was merely tissue paper. They landed somewhere in what looked like Dudley's bedroom. It didn't move so Harry turned to the next threat. Someone was running up the stairs and he could hear others below. _Two down…_

"What the bloody Hell…" The masculine voice didn't get further as it rounded the first landing of the stairway. Using a wandless banisher to propel him forward Harry used his body as a battering ram and threw himself into the very tall robed figure, leading with his elbow. Harry took slight note of the air evacuating the man's lungs at the mammoth impact as they both collided with the wall counter pointed by the breaking of wood and drywall. The sounds of several bones breaking and more than a few fracturing were the only signs that this opponent was out of the fight and no longer a concern. Very few beings would be willing to keep fighting after having half their ribs broken. A quick roll on the rebound carried him down the remaining steps; barely missing several flashes of red spellfire that arched over his quickly moving form. He rolled once more on the ground before throwing another wandless banisher to give him greater speed. Uncoiling from the roll Harry jump-tackled the opponent in front of him. The speed and force carried them both into the living room shattering the coffee table. Harry had only a moment to spin the opponent he was holding into the wall to soften the impact he would feel. As the air left his lungs and momentarily stunned him he realized it was not nearly enough. His cushion was considerably more aware of this fact.

Harry shook the cobwebs from his head. _Four… _He heard people rushing from the kitchen and the hallway into the living room. Somewhere in his roll he lost the wand he took from the witch upstairs. _Fuck! How many do I have to kill to get out of here? _Harry grabbed two of the table legs from the broken coffee table before picking himself up and rushing toward the hallway to his next opponent.

Faster than his opponent could blink he brought the first leg down onto the hand of the witch before him. Harry ignored the sound of bone breaking while he continued one of the many combinations of Eskrima that flowed through his memories. Before his opponent was able to hit the floor Harry managed five more strikes ending with the last to the back of the head.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the stunner erupt from the wand of an older wizard kneeling next to the one he rode into the living room wall. He bent his knees and back low, bringing him down and allowing the spell to speed over his chest before straightening up. Wandlessly he summoned a second target that appeared before him then banished them into the kneeling figure in the living room. Seeing the front door unguarded he made for it. A thoughtless and wandless summoning charm armed him with the wand of the witch at his feet. As he dashed for the door and his freedom he threw a silent exploding hex behind him. Screams sounded behind him when he burst through the portal and the freedom he hoped it offered. The red haze that surrounded his vision seemed to be slowly overtaking him. He knew instinctively he didn't have very much more time available to him. He was fading fast.

A large figure appeared with a pop before him in the moon light. A fleeting thought of how his Uncle would feel about the damage to the house not to mention the wizard standing in his yard floated through his mind before Harry banished himself sideways. The unsteady figure before him moved strangely but his spells came with lethal accuracy. Here was an opponent who knew what they were doing. Harry kept wandlessly banishing himself in random locations to keep moving. With each burst he gained more speed; carrying him from the side of the house, off a light pole, bouncing off the ground, a tree, or a mail box. He kept moving, leaving scorch marks, ropes, chains, and other incapacitating remnants of his opponent's spellfire in his wake. He finally spotted a hesitation in the wizard's form and took advantage of it because he knew this skill foe would not make a second mistake. He had to capitalize on it now.

Harry banished himself directly into the wizard keeping him from his freedom.

Harry wrapped his legs around the figure lacing one arm around his torso while the other grabbed ahold of its head. The force of his charge picked them both up and spun them toward the street while Harry dug deep with his fingers ripping out his opponent's eye. Once they hit the pavement Harry released the screaming figure kicking out with his bare feet into his back throwing it off him. A hard banisher sent the figure through the living room window of his relative's house. Seeing his freedom close at hand Harry picked himself up and apparated away. His exit created a noise so loud it woke the entire neighborhood and shattered the windows of every adjacent house on the street.

There was only one place he could think of going to that he actually knew how to get to through Apparating and there was no question of safety. Through the jumble of all the multiple lives and experiences ringing in his head there was only one person who was alive through them all that he felt he could trust right now. Harry's arrival in front of the estate was announced in a similar way he exited Private Drive. The shockwave broke across the old manor and only the wards saved the windows from shattering.

Covered in blood, some of it his, shirtless and bare foot Harry staggered drunkenly toward the great double doors. His fatigue started getting to him and he could feel the icy bite of his sweet on his skin and the fire as that same sweet ran into the open wounds over his exposed body. Harry marveled at icy burn he only just allowed himself to feel. He managed to do more harm to himself in his rolls over carpet, pavement, and other such surfaces than his opponents did. His trousers were ripped and threadbare he trailed blood from his bleeding broken feet marking his way forward. By the time he mounted the last step one side opened showing the confused face of someone the same apparent age as himself. It was the first welcome sight since this entire ordeal started.

The last of his strength finally gave way as he approached. His falling body was barely caught by the resident of the manor who instantly recognized him thanks to the lamp light held by the houses fraternal grandmother.

"Harry?"

Listless and more than a bit out of his mind Harry looked up at the young man holding him up. Seeing his confused face but not seeing him either. "Can you hear it Longbottom…" Harry wheezed.

Neville Longbottom looked down at his classmates blood splattered face in complete confusion. "Hear what Harry?"

"The bugles Longbottom… Can you hear them?" Harry felt his eyes roll back in his head and welcomed the blackness that surrounded him.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.


	2. Coming to Terms

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 1, Coming to Terms**

_Each of my children has asked me the same question when they hear my story for the first time. "How did you deal with it in the beginning?" Not one has ever been satisfied with the answer of 'What choice did I have?' and what choice did I have really? The deed was done, I was here. Some people knew what that meant a lot sooner than anyone else._

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Mad-Eye Moody found his return to conciseness to be a slightly unpleasant experience. He opened his real eye to assess his surroundings since his magical eye was somewhere in the street outside. Currently he was lying in Harry Potters relatives' living room amongst broken glass… and the framework that was once the great bay window behind him. He grunted to himself as he remembered his flight through it.

As he tried to raise his head he felt pain blossom in left eye socket like he hadn't known since the day he lost his real eye; that French smuggler back in 78' who got the drop on him. He gritted his teeth and groaned through the pain whilst slowly picking himself up. So far he didn't feel like any of his bones were broken, and only a few creaked – none more than, he felt, normal. His attempt at being a bird could have been a lot worse, and his finale through a window was quite the event. Even he had to admit that. He didn't think he'd been out of it long but either way he had to get his people out of here before the Ministry or the Muggles stormed the place and found them.

"Merlin's beard… Mad-Eye what happened?"

Moody looked over to Arthur Weasley whom they had set along with a few others to patrol the area around the house to make sure no one would see them when they left.

Ignoring the question as he pulled himself to his feet he asked one of his own instead. "Where are the others in your watch unit?" He reached up feeling his battered and damaged eye socket noting the blood flow wasn't too bad and he hoped the damage was fixable enough so that he could still use his eye.

When he found it at least.

"Damage Control," Arthur replied, "everyone's outside Obliviating the Muggles and fixing windows. Dumbledore should be here in a few minutes with Madam Pomfrey. Alastor, where's Harry and what happened?"

"Ambush. Don't know where Potter is… Give me a hand getting the others in here so we can treat 'em," Mad-Eye replied while moving over to the still forms of Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle and Sturgis Podmore whom were all in a groaning, broken pile by the wall. With Arthur's help they managed to retrieve everyone in the house and repair the window by the time Dumbledore arrived with the Hogwarts Med-witch.

The moment Dumbledore walked through the shattered remains of the front door Mad-Eye rose from where he was fixing Vance's broken arm and walked over to him. Pomfrey had marshaled those outside that finished with the neighborhood Muggles to help turn the living room in a field hospital while the wary and battered ex-Auror pulled Albus outside.

"Right mess here Albus," he growled in his usual blunt tone, "Potter's not here and as best I can tell he wasn't when we arrived. Everything went according to plan until Vance got hexed going into the boy's room. After her we lost Lupin and then Shacklebolt before whatever it was got Doge. Jones fell next and Diggle was put out of commission soon after because he was too busy checking on Doge to cover his own hide. Podmore was next and it got Tonks right by the door before breaking outside. I tried to head it off but that thing was _fast._ I haven't fought anything like that since the last time I came toe-to-toe with a vampire. Thing took me and my eye out there in the street. Thing is Albus, it wasn't a vampire because it used magic and apparated just after it threw me through the window." Mad-Eye reported.

Throughout the explanation Dumbledore's aged face grew paler and paler. He could see the wards over the house were strong and couldn't understand how the Death Eaters got past them. Moody however, wasn't yet done. "When we got here we detected just one life sign as we expected in the smallest bedroom. I don't know what that was that tore through us but most of us are out of commission for a while, and some of them might not even pull through. Doge isn't young anymore, nor is Diggle. Our ward check showed no foreign magic or any other signs of tampering. When the ambush started most of them weren't taking the situation as seriously as they should have but even I wasn't ready for what did happen."

"We have to find Mr. Potter. I must have miscalculated somewhere… he should have been safe here. None of my instruments trained to the boy showed anything amiss. Severus will know if Voldemort has Harry. Just in case we will marshal what forces we can to search for him. Of course he might have managed to get away before whoever did this came. He is very resourceful. I will check the Burrow and possibly Ms. Granger's home to see if he managed to get there after I talk with Severus. Ah, Madam Pomfrey what word on our friends?" Dumbledore asked the approaching healer.

"Many broken bones, severe concussions, soft tissue damage – that's the worst of it. Most of them will be under my care for a week, maybe more. No life threating injuries Albus, but a few will be in for a rough few weeks healing due to their ages. The most worrying are Ms. Jones who has a bad skull fracture and Ms. Tonks who seemed to have been caught in whatever destroyed the entrance way. Both should fully recover but the next couple of days will be dicey," the Medi-Witch stated while running her wand over the bleeding eye socket of the ex-Auror standing in front of her. For his part Moody just grunted but welcomed the numbing charm she placed on him. "Alastor you are very fortunate you have already lost that eye once. Judging by the damage here you would most assuredly been blinded in both eyes had your attacker gotten a different grip on you. As it is I should be able to heal your eye-socket well enough for you to resume using your replacement in a few days."

"Thanks," he grunted before turning to his old-time friend. "Albus, what's going on with the Ministry? They know about this yet?"

Dumbledore shook his head distractedly. "No, no. Our witch inside the Department of Magical Surveillance assured me she would be able to blind the monitoring of this area for a few more hours still. We managed to sort out the Muggles?"

Mad-Eye nodded. "Aye. Weasley said his people were taking care of them when I came round."

Dumbledore nodded. He was very happy that no one had been seriously hurt during this event but he was extremely troubled by the implications that this event took place at all. "We have to find Mr. Potter as soon as we can," he said. _Before everything falls to ruins…_

xxxxxxxx

Screaming broke the silence of the still-pre-dawn confines of a secret and very hidden bedroom. The sole occupant of said room was laying on a large king sized bed as they thrashed backwards and forth clutching a small lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The words that escaped the young man's mouth, had anyone been able to hear them, would have shocked and astounded any adult. Young boys were not supposed to know such language. Sailors yes, construction workers certainly, but not young boys. "I can't fucking believe she did it to me AGAIN! Fucking CHRIST! Son of Bitch! God DAMN IT!" was _not_ on most people's frequently-used-phrases list… apparently however, this man was the exception to the rule.

After quite some time cursing loudly he finally began to calm down and take in his condition. He looked around the room taking stock of both himself and his location. The room was well furnished in an older style. There was one window open, and Harry was very pleased to feel the effects of cooling charms that must have been woven into the window's construction, as the air lightly blowing through it was very refreshing and was greatly aiding his efforts to calm down.

The young man took a deep breath. His name was Harry Potter and at this moment Harry Potter was not a very happy person. "God I could kill for a drink right now…"

Very slowly he raised himself up to lean against the wooden wall that ran across the head of his bed. The movement caused all of his aches and pains to flair painfully across his body, and with a low groan Harry closed his eyes; sinking into a meditative trance. It was the same exercise he used for his Occlumency, but it was not Occlumency he was trying to do. He was trying to block the pain and clear his mind. It was something he had learned a LONG time ago.

Seven prior lives were each trying to push themselves into his awareness, and violently at that: seven lifetimes of pain, loss, and war. It was rather a lot to take in all at once and the morning hours passed by while he tried to internally sort out what the bloody hell was going on. The sun had started peeking through the closed window before he found himself able to think clearly, and despite a solid night's sleep he felt anything but rested. Assuming of course this was even the next morning. He really had no idea how long he had been unconscious.

He took several deep breaths slowly bringing his heart rate under control while trying to get over his anger at finding himself a young teen. Again. AGAIN! He did manage to sort out a great deal of his confusing thoughts and ideas from his previous…he didn't like calling them lives. Lives meant that what he did mattered during those times. Since he was, once again, a kid none of it ever mattered. None of the sacrifices, none of the pain, none of his loves MATTERED! That royally pissed him off the most. Harry tried to calm himself down again and started thinking of them as Shades of existence, or just Shades. It helped not thinking of them as prior lives.

There were lots of similarities to each Shade, and lots of differences. He could not remember everything that had happened to him, and like real memories the more emotional or important things appeared at the forefront of his mind while the other superfluous thoughts faded away into his subconscious; still present, but not needed. Some of the things he did remember clearly were the things that hadn't changed in any of his Shades.

Hagrid was always the one to find him and give him his letter when he had just turned eleven; he had always befriended Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger; Dumbledore had always set him up to die as a tragic hero, or at least that was his plan for the Greater Good; and Sirius was always killed at the Ministry. Basically his first five years were pretty much all the same, or at least what differences there were weren't so noteworthy as to stand out. Except for a few things in fourth year, but apart from that it was virtually the same. Thinking back on it however, that is where each of his Shades usually spun off. Not always, but around there. Some of them were glaringly different.

During his first Shade he was a bumbling, clueless, and rather tragic hero - just like Dumbledore wanted. The fact that he was blindly loyal; obedient; and completely dependent on everyone else ensured that he was perfectly susceptible to the love potions Ginny used on him. His life wasn't bad really, all things considered. He remembered all of his children fondly, even if everything was the result of a love potion romance, though in retrospect he didn't remember feeling very attached to them. He vaguely remembered Ginny stopping the doses off and on but each time she did he crashed. He had been on them so long he was addicted to them. It was one of the reasons why witches used them to get 'boys off the fence' and used them in low doses. While not illegal it was slightly immoral, and very, very frowned upon when the victim was the head of an Ancient and Noble house, let alone two. Harry snorted - it was more than 'slightly' immoral as far as he was concerned. Of course the other use for them was to help arranged married couples or couples not physically attracted to their spouses conceive or get through it. If taken in large does over long enough most love potions were actually pretty lethal toxins. It was even the cause of his 'death' twenty years after Riddle's fall.

Harry sighed and shook off the thoughts of the rather depressing Shade before moving onto the second.

The Second Shade was almost a mirror image of the first up until just after the fall of Riddle. Instead of being the obedient mindless drone Dumbledore made him in the first time he rebelled against it all, even if he was slightly mental. Harry actually laughed at that: he was more than slightly mental, he was VERY mental. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Hermione once told him. He remembered Hermione choosing Ron over him after the battle. Having feelings for her and losing her might have been what pushed him over the precipice of insanity once the dust cleared. For years he had tried to bull through life but in the end started dosing himself with love potion to hold on to the little something he had, which was his relationship with Ginny. Not ideal, true, but he really didn't have anything else going for him. It worked for some time, until Lucius Malfoy got his hands on him with that organ-eating curse that the healers were unable to cure.

Harry shook his head. That was a painful way to die. Still, if the curse hadn't have killed him then he would have died later from potion poisoning much like he had in the first Shade of his existence. He remembered the warning he was given when his 'treatments' started.

Harry was pretty sure that it was the love potions that caused the deviation away from Ginny in his Third Shade. The fact that Susan Bones was a red-head and not Ginny made sense in its own little way and signified the carrying over of prior shades to the one following after. That was when he took up politics with Susan at his side. He was able to pull the Wizarding government together, with her help and knowledge, and hold them together during the war, but it was long and bloody, and far more tedious than in prior Shades. They had succeeded in halting Riddle's recruitment abilities within the Isles, but they had struggled with putting down his members. It was a long war until they finally were able to bring him down. Unfortunately they did not know about his Horcruxes and he came back later – and they were caught unprepared when he did so. Harry shivered remembering Susan's anguished cries as Riddle tortured her as he was forced to watch, only to have a Dementor suck out his soul afterward. His only reasoning for the fact he continued on was that Hermione must have gotten his body sometime later but before Riddle took the Ministry to send him back.

Dementors were byproducts of a Shadow Mage. That was something he didn't learn about until his Fourth Shade. Of course, he knew that now since he _was_ a Shadow Mage during that Shade. The book of Shadows was certainly full of interesting little tidbits like that. Yes, he remembered that Shade very well; it was the one where he went dark. He had thought Hermione was dead and he got thrown into Azkaban for trying to rescue Sirius. There might have been some residual blowback from the prior Shades but it did not matter, he went Dark; very, very Dark. Harry sighed. Not exactly the brightest time in his existence.

Being a mate to an Owl of all things was different though, and exciting in its own way. He found that it broke his trend for Gingers quite nicely.

He didn't actually die in that run. He wasn't exactly alive either. His broken magic core had forced him into several dark rituals that changed him mentally and physically. In a way he understood Riddle a lot better because of it. Once you taste that kind of power it becomes a hunger you have to have sated. Hermione however saved his sanity and stopped him before he went too far. The only real problem was it was far too late for him by then; he was almost lost to his madness, and that wasn't even saying a single thing about the effects Legion had on him. He remembered Hermione using some kind of ritual to send him back to before the Ministry Battle. He remembered how she sacrificed herself to see it done.

Harry felt his eyes open but they starred unfocused looking at the wall opposite of him.

His fifth ride through life he spent as a S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. Spectres were an elite militaristic branch who answered only to the Triumvirate. Members of the Triumvirate included the Current Minister, Chief Warlock, and the mysterious Head of the Council: The Raith. Spectres were an elite group of Wizards and Witches personally handpicked by this Council. They have but one primary goal: to protect and preserve the Wizarding way of life at any and all costs save exposure to the Muggles. Spectres were truly a law unto themselves; answerable only to the Council and to no other. As elite military operatives they were granted the authority to deal with threats in any way they so deemed necessary to keep peace and stability in their world. They operated independently or in groups of two or three. Some were empathetic peacekeepers; resolving disputes through diplomacy, and others were cold-blooded assassins; ruthlessly dispatching problem individuals. All got the job done one way or another, often operating outside of the bounds of wizarding law.

Harry didn't even know how many there were in total, just that the Triumvirate Council didn't assign many. Maybe one or two in a decade made the cut. Largely because the entire Council had to agree to the appointment, which was almost impossible to achieve. Dumbledore didn't like them and in almost all cases during his tenure as Chief Warlock refused any appointments. When Harry was approached at the end of his Fifth year he was very surprised to learn all this. The Raith wanted Harry trained. He made a deal with Fudge that if he supported him he would use his influence to help him with the blowback that was bound to happen from Voldemort breaking into the Ministry. Of course, since Fudge was also acting Chief Warlock only the two of them knew. Harry learned later that Fudge was Obliviated once he left the Office of Minister; he hadn't the faintest clue about the identity of the one he assigned to the Spectres.

Harry remembered a lot of work, a lot of theory, and a lot of Tonks that summer. He shook his head. That war was long and bloody too. They fought Riddle the same way he fought them, Guerrilla style. He remembered the years they had spent in the wild, just the two of them. After Sirius had died he threw himself into the specialized training offered by the Spectres and learned a great many skills. Weapons training; specialized fighting and spell casting… all in all he was trained to kill; to kill quickly, and never leave any evidence that it had been him. His previous life as an Assassin seemed to spill over into this life as well because he had picked it all up as if it was a mere refresher course, and to him it was. His relationship with Tonks was wonderful as well; until she died in the final battle they pushed Riddle into.

Harry sighed again. He was pretty messed up in that fight himself and was moments away from death when he was sent back again he assumed. He only remembered the pain from his lost leg slowly making his body go cold and Hermione running to him before it all blacked out.

By far the Sixth Shade was the worst. Everything was destroyed. The war ended up spilling into the Muggle world and their secret existence was uncovered. The result was mass hysteria, panic, and the final solution, which translated roughly into 'lots and lots of bombs': the war to end all wars. Maybe five percent of the world's population survived the nuclear fallout and aftermath, and magic was almost completely lost. Technology was useless because of the residual radiation. He'd spent a great many years walking the wastelands alone and helping any survivors he could; looking for anyone from his old life that might have survived.

He learned how to live off almost nothing; survive harsh environments; live without magic to aid him; and how to combine magic and technology in ways that would allow both to work since neither could without the other. He also learned how to handle firearms - when he had bullets for them at least, which was times few and far between. Bullets were harder to find than clean water, which was equally as difficult to find. He had made it to just over a hundred years old before he found anyone he knew from his old life, and wouldn't you know it, it was Hermione. She had spent all that time trying to find a way to undo everything that had happened. By the time he had found her she had figured it out but she needed just one thing to make it work, a magically strong person. She needed Harry. He was the only one left who had the magical power to go back since his magic was almost unaffected unlike everyone else. Besides, like she said, he owed it to everyone to do it.

He had of course done it; it was his fault it had happened in the first place. Daphne Potter nee Greengrass was pregnant by the end of his sixth year when Riddle had found out about them thanks to Draco Malfoy. He ran with Daphne before the end of school abandoning everyone. His son died in childbirth seven months later with Daphne not long afterward when she took her own life. It was probably one of the worst memories he had over all. There was nothing the Doctors could do to help her. He was told it was just one of those unfortunate things that happened sometimes. After they had laid them both to rest the war was on and spilling over into the muggle world.

Those who survived the Bombs, Nuclear Winters, Plagues, Scavengers, starvation, as well as the multitude of other monstrosities that followed called him the Lone Wanderer or Lone. He spent long days and nights moving from one settlement to another helping where he could and surviving like everyone else, by any means necessary. Until he found Hermione.

His most brutal Shade was definitely the last one he had experienced. Taking up the mantle of his Family was harsh, hell, even wandering the Wasteland and the encounters he struggled through were not as brutal as the battles he found himself in during the last round. The path of the Martyr was not one he would ever want to tread again. Harry snorted at that thought. After everything he went through he fell prey to stupid teenage angst and depression and tried to off himself by jumping off the tower.

Harry reared back and laughed at his own stupidity.

Each and every time he was sent back it had to be Hermione doing it. Most of the time it was to prevent him from dying, a few times to change events. It was always Hermione. Wild. Just wild. And yet despite how things changed nothing really did. He was always under-prepared, always manipulated, always the one who suffered more than others. Each of his Shades was horrible for one reason or another; full of lost love ones, lost friends, lost lovers, pain, torture, and mingled with only the smallest doses of happiness.

Harry folded his legs and leaned forward, putting his chin into his hands. This was a chance unlike any he had before. He remembered _everything_, well, a lot of things from the different Shades. Hermione had unknowingly given him the chance of a lifetime, or in his case several lifetimes. Judging by how his body looked he figured he was about fifteen right now. He had to get a few things put together and make some plans on how he wanted to live this Shade, which he hoped to finally be a _life_, because he was going to be damned if he didn't live it right. Dumbledore would be unable to manipulate him this time round if he had any say about it, and if he was careful not to disrupt the time line too much he might be able to control a few things until he was ready to unleash his full abilities. If he was careful, lucky, and planned accordingly, he could minimize Riddle's involvement. If not, he finally found himself on the other end of the spectrum in this conflict. For once, it was Harry who was the knowledgeable one, not Riddle, not Dumbledore. He had the memories of over two _hundred_ years in his head; all of them filled with war and how to survive it; several lifetimes of knowledge centered specifically around war with Death Eaters and Voldemort, and one entire Shade devoted to politics and manipulation, both how to doll it out and how to circumvent being the victim of the slippery machinations. When he thought about it, he had more than enough knowledge to be able to be free of them all.

Of course, it was entirely within the realm of possibility that nothing he did would change anything; there was a reason why people were not supposed to meddle in time after all. Harry nodded to himself after several seconds pondering this: he could try to change any number of things but if it was meant to be, then there should be nothing he could do to change them. It bore looking into.

There was one thing he was sure about more than any other. He was going to enjoy this new life for everything it was worth, unlike the other times. He was going to treat this gift Hermione gave him for what it was, a precious thing; if nothing else it would feel pretty good to cut loose for once in his hundreds of years of existence.

It was going to be tough, trying to balance this life with what he knew. He needed to work it all out, make plans. He needed supplies, both magical and mundane. Without Gringotts he didn't have any money since all his gold was there, not to mention his family heirlooms. Harry rolled out of the bed still thinking as he walked over to the dresser mirror to get a good look at himself for the first time since he 'woke up'. _Gods I am so young._

His body wasn't scrawny, oh no, that would have been the biggest understatement of the millennia: it was flat out pitiful. Not to mention he HATED these stupid glasses. He really preferred contacts or wire frames, just ANYTHING but these huge, ridiculous glasses. Harry pulled off the unfamiliar red shirt and took in the sight of his protruding ribs, flat stomach, and completely malnourished frame with a frown marring his features. He ran his hands across his skin worriedly, _That's not right…_

He had scars he should not have. Oh he knew where they came from, but they should not be on this body. He traced a scar over his chest in the shape of an oval and his mind pulled up the relevant memory of the Locket. His eye flickered to his arm and peered at the scar tissue from the Basilisk. He should have that one, but as he looked closer he noticed there seemed to be multiple stab wounds. _The Basilisk must not have hit the same spot in each Shade_, Harry mused. His eyes traveled around a bit before noticing there was the stab wound from a spear he took protecting that little girl he found in the Wastes. He turned around so that he could look at his back and noticed that there were other scars there. He felt flashes of memories as he looked at his reflection and remembered were he got each whiplash, cut, stab, burn , or other injury.

He shook his head when he faced front again. Somehow his memories of those past lives had made themselves known through this body. He could even see a light scar around his right shoulder joint where he lost his arm on the last Shade. The old werewolf scars that never healed before he tried to kill himself were there as well - though very fine and light. When he managed to get himself nourished and growing again these scars would fade away for the most part.

He really wasn't sure yet how he felt about that. These scares were all that was left of his prior experiences. They were the _only _physical evidence he wasn't mental.

His young reflection in the mirror shook his head._ I shouldn't be surprised; this is me I am talking about after all: can't ever be fucking normal, can I? And unfortunately the only person who could answer my questions about this no longer exists as she once did to know the answers._ Harry frowned. _Unless she's already started working on it?_ Definitely something he was going to have to look into. If for no other reason than to destroy her research so this would never happen again. Like all right-minded people Harry didn't fear death. This new life had possibilities but that didn't mean he was looking forward to doing this all over again. No, he was absolutely sure - even if it cost him Hermione - he was NEVER going through this again. This time he lived or died as he was: no come backs.

Harry stood there and really took in his appearance while internally feeling around for his magic. It was weak, untamed, and untrained. Far too weak for him to Apparate, create a Portkey (which was stupid of him to even try since he was not licensed to do so), or use the Sphere to take him anywhere. He still had Riddles soul fragment inside him choking his Magic Core. Harry sighed again - that was something he needed to change as soon as possible, because there was no way in hell he was going to run around knowing he had a piece of that bastard in his head, or with the miserable core he now possessed. It was a good thing he knew Occlumency now as well as a few other mind skills. If nothing else it should be enough to deal with that little problem until he found a way to deal with it permanently. _The Book of Shadows had the ritual on Horcruxes… maybe I can kill a Death Eater and do what Riddle fucked up…_ His old self would have rebelled at the thought, but there were a few Death Eaters he could see himself cold bloodedly killing to do it. _Dolohov would be perfect…_ He shook his head. Carry-over from when he killed Hermione he supposed. He still felt a rage over that even after knowing it didn't happen and he spent three months torturing the bastard thinking he had. Harry shivered remembering those sessions with the Death Eater. _Hope I never find I need those skills ever again. Not a path I would ever want to tread twice._

Harry looked around the room trying to divert his mind from the imagery of those times. He tried to focus on finding his wand, however it was then he remembered what had happened before he came here. As he remembered the events before he blacked out he felt his eyes start to widen at what he had done to the Order of the Phoenix.

"Bloody hell…" he murmured to himself, and he was surprised that he hadn't used any of the more colorful words in his vocabulary in his quiet exclamation.

His wandless magic had always been limited to two spells, Summoning and Banishing. He supposed Occlumency, apparation, and Sphere travel could be considered Wandless magic too, but other than Occlumency those took way more power than he could pull off without rendering him into a coma at the moment. He was magically exhausted from the fight. _Merlin I hope I didn't kill any of them…_

While looking around the room he noticed a chair close to the bed; a folded Prophet sitting on the arm. Harry rushed over to it looking at the front page, or more specifically the date. _August 7__th__, 1995._

"95'… Holy shit the Order was supposed to pick me up on the sixth to take me to Headquarters. In all Shades they always did it on the sixth…" For a moment Harry reveled in the knowledge Sirius was alive before he almost jumped at the thought of his coming trial. "Shit when was that… the tenth?" After a moment Harry shook his head. "No, it was the Twelfth. So if the fight happened last night I have four days…"

The door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. For just a moment Harry looked to the window while contemplating whether he could survive the fall while also incapacitating his opponent. The sight of a much younger Neville Longbottom helped stop his initial reaction even if he unknowingly moved half the distance during this thinking.

"Hey Harry, it's good to see you up and around. How do you feel?" the shy boy asked him.

For his part he was having a hard time trying to reconcile who Neville use to be with who was standing in front of him. _Okay, that is going to take some getting used to… Bloody Hell, is it going to be this way with everyone?_

"Alright Nev. Thanks for patching me up. How long have I been out?"

"Two days. If you don't mind me asking, um, what happened?"

_Fuck! That only gives me two days… _Harry looked at the shy boy before him noticing his cheeks bloom slightly at his forward question. From his perspectives of his prior shades he knew Neville would grow to be a powerful ally. However at the moment he was a far cry from the man he knew.

Harry walked several steps toward the young Longbottom heir and placed one hand on his shoulder. He did NOT want to manipulate his friends into being people they were; he had already decided he was not going to be Dumbledore and dole out roles and manipulate people into being what he wanted, however he would give them the choice to decide for themselves if they wanted to learn how to be _more_ than they were. Choice: something he never had. Free Will and choice were going to be his mantras. He wouldn't shape or mold any of them, but he would help them with _everything _he had and knew.

Looking at his dorm mate, and hopefully friend, Harry spoke. "House Potter calls. How does House Longbottom answer?"

Neville's eyes widened. "B..But what about the Weasleys? I mean… are you sure you want me for whatever's going on?"

Harry allowed a smirk to grace his face. "We haven't been close friends over the years and for that I am sorry. I trust you Neville. I want House Longbottom at my back when the spells start flying. You're a great wizard Neville, you have no idea how great but I do. As far as the Weasleys, we'll see. The road I plan to walk is pretty fucked up mate, and more than a little dangerous. I'll understand if you don't want to come, but our family history is deep. I plan to prepare for the coming war, but before I do that I need to know who is going to be there at my side. I was hurt the other day but it was here to the Longbottoms I came and nowhere else. That should tell you how much I trust you Nev. Make no mistake, the Potters are going to war and it's a war I plan to win. I came to you first Nev and I'm asking for your help. No matter the choice you make, I'll always be your friend."

Harry watched as Neville seemed to stand a bit taller as he spoke to the young Gryffindor. By the time he finished he could see just a bit of the old Nev shining through his eyes. Well, the old Neville's he knew. "Longbottoms stand Ready," he replied proudly.

Harry nodded once before slapping the boy on the shoulder with a grin. "Good!" He looked out the window, and upon seeing that it wasn't too late in the afternoon asked, "Think your Gran can get us to Diagon Alley today?"

A bit confused by Harry's change of topic he nodded. "Sure, but what do we need to go to the Alley for?"

A lot of his plans started there. The next few days should be interesting. "Gringotts."

Harry drifted into his deep thought. During the Shade where he was involved with Susan he had learnt all manner of things about the Wizarding government, which was informative… even if it did make him sick. He'd learned all about Ancient and Noble Houses and Clans, and that was what had him thinking of seeking Goblin aid. He knew that there was no way his government headed by the likes of Fudge and Dumbledore was going to allow him to live his own life: it would disrupt the system.

There were ways to get around the system however, and with Susan's help he had learned a great many of them - all thanks to a flippant comment he made while on trial for underage magic. A trial he had yet to have. However he didn't plan for it to be so blatant this time, oh no, this time he was going to play Dumbledore's game.

Harry just didn't plan to tell him the rules had changed.

Purebloods were funny people. They fought like maniacs to make sure that all the advantages of society were available to them, and at the same time did everything they could to make sure that the Government or other Houses stayed the hell away from them. Harry was the last full-blooded member of the Noble House of Potter and, as such, that technically made him Head of House Potter. This gave him all manner of special rights, privileges, and power amongst the Wizengamot, general populous, and Bank. The only problem was that he was below the age of majority which was 17, his magical Guardian was Sirius Black, and he was on the run from his escape from Prison, which made Harry a ward of the State. In other words, he was Dumbledore's bitch.

Harry didn't like that.

As things stood right now Dumbledore controlled everything House Potter controlled, investments, votes, where Harry lived, hell, the old goat could even legally place him into a marriage contract or arrange one for him. And that was not going to do as far as Harry was concerned. There was only two ways around this was one was if Harry had a House Stewart. Stewarts trumped court guardians any day. Not Will-assigned Guardians like Sirius, but court guardians.

The problem was that only the Head of House or Will-appointed guardians could assign a House Stewart, and Harry knew his parents never thought to do so. It was an old law, one that had not been used in a couple of hundred years, but they did assign Guardianship to his Godfather Sirius. Another old law; the law Harry wanted to happily take indecent advantage of, was the law of Ascension and Peerage.

If his memory was correct the age of Majority was 17. Now, normally you had to be a minimum of twenty-one to sit your family seats on the Wizengamot without a Stewart unless you were the last remaining full blood member of your house. If you were then there were no age requirements really. However, in order for Harry to be emancipated he would have to meet a couple of requirements. One, he had to be a minimum of 15, which he was perfectly happy with, and second, he had to be deemed competent enough to up hold the duties and Honor of his House. When he and Susan had gotten together he had barley meet these. Turns out he was in about that same place this run.

So as far as the Law of Ascension and Peerage there was a sub-clause that was never used, little known about, and absolutely vital to Harry's plans. It was a House Protection Clause, clause 86-b if he remembered it right. He wasn't sure; it had been a VERY long time and a different life when he had stumbled across it. What it allowed, if there was a situation where the sole remaining member of a house, was A) without a Guardian, B) Without a Stewart, C) Under the age of Majority, and D) Not or unable to be Emancipated, was the right to claim Minor Peerage Head of House status. This is what Harry was going for. Any other way was just too public for his tastes.

It would allow him full access, under Goblin Law, to claim his House Signet Ring, Family Vaults, and Properties. And Goblin Law was the point to make. It allowed him to bear the coat of arms of his Family. The reason it was under Goblin jurisdiction was that when it passed the Wizengamot, Goblins were seen as a Neutral Party who could mediate the claims without prejudice and without other houses interfering. Again, Purebloods were funny people. All to prevent a foreign house from gaining control of another while it is in disarray. Not only did Purebloods try to protect themselves from the Muggles, Muggleborns, and all creatures not human, but they also tried to protect themselves from themselves. It was insane.

As far as Harry knew there was never a successful use of this clause. Goblins were stern arbiters and an applicant had to impress them just right. Harry had every intention of getting control of his vaults, money, investments and properties. It was the bedrock foundation of his plans. Shaking himself out of his thoughts and turning back to the confused face of Neville at his long silence he smiled and clapped him again on the back. "Come on Nev; let's go ask your Gran if she'll let us tour the Alley. Besides, we can stop off at Ollivanders and get you a new wand - one that matches. Don't know about you but I'd hate to see something happen to your Dad's old wand. Not to mention that I think a lot of your problems with your spell casting is due to using a mismatched wand."

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

A note on a negative review. I am not the first author to request Reviews. Nor am I holding chapters 'Hostage'. Reviews, whether honest critic or praise, help me write and let me know where I stand with my readers. Without them, I won't know if my writing is improving. That said, I do hope to hear from all readers what they think about the story itself as it evolves. To date, I have the story written up to the beginning of Hogwarts term, and that is about 12 more chapters.


	3. Diagon Alley

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 2, Diagon Alley**

'_I had the choice to be either the world's savior, or the next Dark Lord. Neither really appealed to me so I created my own option. To be Just Harry. No more, no less. My only problem was there were seven different versions of Harry all competing for dominance within me.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Augusta Longbottom watched as the young Potter heir threw a pinch of powder into the flames of her family's Floo. Her thoughts on the events of the last few days. Not moments ago she had agreed, reluctantly, to allow her grandson to go with him to Diagon Alley unchaparoned. This was something she would normally never allow but the Longbottom traditions were very clear so there was nothing she could do to gainsay the idea. The alliance between House Potter and House Longbottom was the oldest standing alliance in wizarding history. She knew her duty when she married into the family all those years ago and studied the Longbottom traditions extensively making them her own. When a Potter shows and traditionally calls for aid, Longbottoms answered and jumped into the Van. It had always been this way, would always be this way and she was Proud that Neville of his own free will made it his way now.

Her eyes moved over to her Grandson taking him in. She had almost given up on him. He was nothing like his father was at this age. He was slightly overweight, had no interest in sports, his grades were average in most studies, and she was almost ashamed to admit, magically weak. But something was changing in him now. There was something new this morning in his eyes that reminded her of her son. It brought hope to her old heart that maybe, just maybe she was wrong. Before Potter showed himself she would never have believed her grandson would amount to anything other than a disappointment to the family name. Neville's declaration of his own free will to join their House once again with House Potter however brought a hope to her for him.

The aged witch watched Potter pass a joke to Neville before he called for Diagon Alley. He hadn't told her what had happened to bring him battered and bloodied to their steps the other night but she remembered his whispered words to Neville. He asked him if he could hear it. He asked if Neville could hear the Bugles. She understood immediately what was being asked of them. By their shared traditions he was asking for House aid, Potters were declaring War. When Neville dragged him in she decided immediately she would keep his presence secret until she knew more and called in her sister Wilfreda Ion who worked in St. Mungo's as one of their Medi-wiches to treat the boy. Only family at this point could be trusted until she figured out more of what was going on.

As she watched her grandson follow his friend she felt a smile appear on her wrinkled face. _I just hope you don't botch this up Neville. I have a feeling retying the family to the Potters will make for interesting times. I can only pray your new strength is strong enough to carry the dark days ahead._

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Harry came through the floo ass over elbows. His dramatic, and rather funny entrance judging by the laughter coming from around him, had upended two tables. Thankfully one was unoccupied and he missed the two seated guests sitting at the other. From his highly uncomfortable position the world was skewed. His back rested against one of the tables he had uprooted, and his head was lying against the floor; his feet draped over the edge of the upended table. However his sight was clear enough to see Neville Longbottom walk through the emerald flames and into the Leaky Cauldron as if he'd walked through the door. Neville was surprised to arrive with his ears ringing with the tavern's collective laughter.

"Hey Nev." Harry smiled holding one of his arms up. "Little help here mate?"

Laughing at Harry's predicament he offered him his hand and helped him to his feet. Once righted Harry turned and bowed to the patrons with an exaggerated whirling of his arms, "Thank you, thank you! I'm here all day folks, don't forget to tip your elves!" Harry's cheek got him a round of applause from the patrons whether they understood the joke or not, and another burst of laughter. Harry smirked at Neville while leading them up to the bar. "Okay, you need to teach me your secret Neville."

Blushing slightly at the attention they were receiving in the tavern Neville asked just loud enough for Harry to hear him, "What secret?"

"Floo Travel. I've never been able to travel the system without making a scene like that." _Over two hundred accumulated years and it never changes. Never once have I ever gotten the hang of it. _"No offence mate, but you're not the most graceful guy out there and you manage to walk through like you're going room to room. Hey Tom!"

Reaching the bar Harry took a seat with Neville following uncertainly beside him. The grizzled old barkeep smiled friendlily at the teens. "Young Harry Potter, it's nice to see you again! What can old Tom get for you today?"

"Got any of your special Hagrid Butterbeer?"

Neville gave him funny look while old Tom chuckled, a knowing grin on his face. "Sure young man. Be right back."

Once Tom left Neville asked the question that was on his mind. "Special Hagrid Butterbeer, Harry?"

He smiled and gave an enthusiastic nod. "Yeah - good stuff mate, you'll like it."

"What's in it?"

"Pumpkin juice, fresh cream, nutmeg and Ogden's." Harry replied.

Neville blinked. "Er, okay. Is this something that Hagrid drinks on special occasions then?"

Harry smiled at Neville. "Yeah, Hagrid says every breakfast is special at Hogwarts."

Neville blinked several times at that before nervously chuckling. A moment later Tom walked back to the bar, putting down two bottles on the counter before stepping back and returning to polishing a glass. Harry took a strong pull from his bottle, and when Neville tried to keep up choked on his - there was, after all, more than shot's worth of Firewhiskey in that bottle.

Harry smacked his lips with a smile on his face. "That's the shit." Harry put down a couple of galleons before leaning towards Tom, a conspiratorial expression on his face. "Any chance I can get a special order filled?"

"Depends on what you are looking for Harry," the old barkeep replied lowly; his eyebrow raised with amusement.

"A case of Ogden's finest, 77'."

Tom blinked in surprise. "Bit young aren't you Harry?" he inquired.

Harry for his part just shrugged. "Depending on how the season goes for Gryiffindor I was thinking of having some on hand for an after party if by some chance we lose. Not a bad way to wash a post-game loss right?"

Tom tossed his head back and let out a strong belly laugh at Harry's words. "You just reminded me of your father James talking like that. You're alright Harry," he chuckled with mirth dancing in his eyes. He calmed down a moment later before nodding his head. "Okay lad. I filled a few orders for your father before you know? 'Course if you get caught no mention of Old Tom right?" Harry smiled and happily nodded. "Good, pass me fifty and I'll get it sent off to Rosemerta for you. You figure out how you're going to get it in the castle on your own okay?"

Harry placed the gold on the counter and shook the barkeeps hand. "Done. Thanks Tom. By the way, do a quick exchange for me? Coins for cash?" After a quick nod the exchange was done and Harry smiled with a "Cheers." To the old barkeep.

Harry grabbed his bottle and motioned Neville toward the entrance to the London itself. Once they passed beyond where the patrons of the tavern could hear them Neville looked over at Harry with wide eyes. "Blimey Harry, this is the muggle side! What are we doing out here?"

Distractedly Harry looked around for a mark, "Whiskey always makes me crave a smoke and I could kill for a smoke right now." He ignored Neville's look of surprise and continued to look around for his target while also making his way to the closest convenient store. They walked for only about ten minutes before Harry found what, or rather who, he was looking for.

The teen Harry approached raised a few objections but the fifty dollar note from Harry quickly solved any objections the youth had to doing what Harry wanted. The trip took a total of thirty minutes before both boys were walking back through the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Ally proper. Harry attracted more than a few strange looks with a pack of Lucky's in his shirt pocket and a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"What Happened to you this summer Harry? Your smoking, drinking and I'm almost afraid to ask what else now. It's not like you mate."

"Neville, you have no idea. Smoking bothers you?" Harry asked.

Neville shook his head and gave a shrug, but was still sending him odd looks. "Not really. Gran's circle of political friends smoke when they get together. I have to be around most of the time. Family ties and all that. Gotten used to it really."

Harry nodded as the bricks peeled away after Neville taped out the sequence. He didn't get a chance to make it to the Alley last year but it really didn't look all that different. He blew out a cloud of smoke, deftly ashing it to the side while smiling at Neville. "That never gets old. I love magic."

Both of them started walking into the wizarding shopping district when Neville asked Harry, "So, we here for anything specific?"

Harry nodded. "Yup: I need to see the goblins, but I think we might hit a few stores on the way up and just poke about some. Gran Longbottom ever let you roam about on your own before?"

Neville looked almost aghast at the suggestion. "No way! This is the first time she's not been around. Usually it's just Hogwarts' requirements and then back home as fast as possible."

Harry smiled - he had some treats for Neville then. "I lived here for a month during the summer of our Third Year. Come on; you're not much into Quidditch so we'll see what's around for… Holy shit…" Neville turned to look at the storefront Harry was looking at. It was full of musical instruments of all kinds. When he went to ask Harry what was so interesting the young Longbottom heir found himself in the street alone as Harry was already going through the doors.

By the time he walked inside Harry was holding what looked like a wooden flute a bit longer than their arms that moments ago rested in the great window of the store. His face held a reverent look as he held it before slowly bringing it up to his lips. What followed was a melody so hunting and pure all he could do was just listen. Neither of the boy's noticed the few other patrons immediately turn at the sounds and walk closer to listen.

For his part Harry was lost in a memory of a time that no longer existed. It was sometime during his fifties after the Rain of Death. It was the last time up until now he ever played one of these. The melody was not something any of the patrons would recognize as it came about sometime after the Rain and was used to mark funerals. The memory he was lost in was a funeral for one of the few friends he made during his life as the Lone Wanderer. Jake Carter's village was one of the worst he ever came across in his travels but Jake was trying to make it better. Together they found a way to get the well to produce clean water, and then fortified the village's defenses as well as salvaging tons of materials for them to use in order to better the lives of his people.

However the Wastelands were a harsh place in the best of circumstances, and medical treatment was pretty much Neanderthal level. Cutting winds that could rend the flesh off unprotected bodies, sunlight so blistering it was unsafe to walk about during the day, and lack of large quantities of clean water for hygiene where only just a few of the killing elements post-fallout survivors had to endure… not to mention the more merciful of the dangers. Jake was only thirty five when he passed and he was considered an old man by then. It was Jake that taught him to play the woodwinds. A lot of time was killed over a fire learning and playing the instruments; music was one of the few entertainments available at the time, but the day they laid Jake in the ground was the last day Harry played.

He felt tears slowly trek down his face while he slowly played the second set to the old tune. The flute he was using at the moment was damn near a carbon copy of the one Jake gave him. Hell, it COULD have been the same one, he never figured out where Jake got the one he gave him. Just playing and remembering the stout man brought a lot of Harry's issues to the surface. The way Harry figured it Jake was born sometime after the Rain. In this world, this life, this Shade, Harry knew it was incredibly unlikely that Jake's parents would find each other again. The events, reasons, or whatever consequences that lead to them meeting and loving were not in place and most likely never would be. This meant in all likelihood that Jake Carter would never be born, and to Harry it was a loss to the world. His friend would never know a world of blue skies, fresh foods, or green hills because the Rain was unlikely to ever impact this Shade, and despite the loss the world was better for that fact. The fact Jake would have agreed meant that Harry was putting to rest a great man remembered by only one, and to Harry that was worth a second dirge.

When he finished playing he finally took notice of his audience and blushed when they applauded him. Harry didn't know it but they had all felt his sadness and loss. Transported by the music of the notes he played they had felt as if something irreplaceable had been lost to them, thought they didn't know what it was. Still blushing Harry paid for the flute and a case for it before he and Neville left, making for the great white marble bank that was Harry's main destination that day. It took most of the walk for Harry to put the ghost of Jake Carter to bed and refocus on what he was here to do today.

For his part Neville was at a complete loss as to explain the sudden and graphic changes in the young man he was walking beside. He didn't utter a word until after they passed the great doors of the bank and Harry stopped looking about. "So, I take it we're not here for a quick withdraw?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head as he peered around, "Not really. Yeah I've got to stop by my vault and pick up some gold to repay you for the loan earlier but I'm here to claim my family ring. You, Mister Longbottom, are here to stand with me. Next year when you decide to claim your rights I'll be here for you."

"You can't claim your ring yet Harry; you're not over the age of Majority." At looking at Harry's unconcerned face he asked, "Right?"

"We'll see. Hey, there's a teller over there open. Come on mate."

"**Greetings Bank Teller, May your fortunes outweigh your debts."** He stated in clear Gobbledegook.

The teller was completely surprised by not only the courtesy but by the fact a human addressed him so. For his part Harry noted Neville seemed to be taking it in stride.

**"Greetings young sir, and may your endeavors be fruitful. How may we be of assistance to you?"**

The only show of surprise from Harry was his blink; he really didn't expect one of the tellers to respond in kind. "I have need to speak to one of your Honored Account Managers, Bank Teller. It is a serious matter of Honor and Gold." Harry stated after switching back to English. He didn't know enough of their language for him to get that all out.

The goblin before him nodded also switching over to english. "Who may I ask seeks such a meeting of these matters?"

"Harry James Potter of the Noble House of Potter, Bank Teller."

Neither fidgeting nor moved but stared at the goblin. After a time the goblin nodded again before climbing down from his great stool and disappearing while Harry waited. He stood his ground trying to keep his composure, which was difficult considering that everything, all his plans, banked heavily on him succeeding today.

Harry turned to Neville. "No worries," he reassured the uneasy looking wizard, "Even if this goes pear-shaped just look cool and confident." Harry noted the teller come through a door and start walking toward him with another goblin. "If nothing else, this should be interesting," he murmured to himself so that only him and Neville could hear.

"I hope not Harry; your level of interesting usually ends up in the Hospital Wing."

Harry smiled at his friend but didn't deny it.

Harry happened to see the signal he was to follow and he walked through winding corridors, past closed conference rooms, small lobbies, and other hallways. Harry followed the goblins for several long minutes before finding himself in a small but wealthy-looking office that positively oozed money where another goblin sat behind an ornately carved desk. Harry looked around and did not see any trophies on the walls, which told him he was not yet amongst anyone who could help him, but maybe this one could take him to the one he needed. That or the Potter Accountant was a different kind of Goblin than he was used to.

"I understand you wish to speak with me Mr. Potter? I am your families Account Manager. My name is Undar of the house of Krill. Manager Undar will do," stated the goblin.

Harry took the offered seat. "I do Manager Undar. Since I was here for a withdraw to get my school supplies I thought I would also check on the status of my accounts."

"Hmmm, well I don't suppose that would be an issue then…" Harry felt himself frowning at that. He had only taken on his family assets a few times but back then he was dealing with Thakthor who was the Black account Manager. When he was doing the whole political thing he didn't need the goblins because he did everything through the Ministry. Harry decided to wait a bit to find out what the 'issue' would be. Meanwhile Undar had pulled various rolls from his desk and was starting to speak.

"Yes here we go. Your Trust vault currently has one key assigned to it in the possession of your Ministry appointed guardian, Albus Dumbledore. You have one proxy assigned by your guardian, a Molly Weasley nee Pewerit, with all quarterly statements in regards to your family's investments, properties, and other such correspondence being mailed to your guardian. The contents of your vault have been topped off at the beginning of each fiscal year as per the arrangements made between your father Lord James Charles Potter and myself before his unfortunate death. Regular withdrawals have been made yearly by Dumbledore in the amounts of two thousand galleons in accordance with your living care expenses as well as thirty-five thousand galleons which have gone to Hogwarts itself. Since you have attained your Hogwarts letter the first amount has been raised by two thousand to cover your personal tuition.

"Your trust vault has a total of fifty thousand galleons. As of July 1st that amount dropped by thirty-nine thousand. This will leave you with a total of eleven thousand galleons to use at your discursion. You or your proxy must have your key to be granted unlimited access to the vault. If you send a proxy for withdrawals they must have your key and be registered with us as a proxy allowed for access. This would cover other humans, house elves, and goblins."

Harry leaned forward steeping his fingers. "I am curious; could you explain the conditions for the first withdrawals please?" He already knew from prior times going through this but he wanted to make sure things were still as he remembered. For some reason he didn't fully understand there where some minor changes in each life, and some of them took place really early on.

"Certainly Mr. Potter," replied the goblin easily, "a few months before you were born your Mother and Father came to me and set up your trust vault. Such vaults usually contain only money and yours is no exception. At the time they had concerns about what would become of you if they died before you came of age. So they had one key fashioned and left it in my care to wait for either your family Stewart, Godfather, or a Guardian appointed by your Ministry. Later after the tragic event in which your parents died Dumbledore arrived with the required paperwork from your Ministry showing himself to be your Guardian. I had inquired about Lord Black as I knew he was your Godfather and was disappointed to learn he was imprisoned for murder and not likely to be released. So, per your parents' wishes I gave your key to Dumbledore. I informed Dumbledore the yearly maximum he was allowed to withdraw for your care and he has done so every year since. That allowance was specifically set up so you would not be a burden to the family who ended up taking you."

Harry's expression did not change during any of Undars explanation as so far nothing new had occurred, apart from the fact that this particular Goblin did not act like the normal goblins he was used to dealing with. "I see, and the second?"

"A charity fund established by your Mother. Hogwarts annual tuition is two thousand galleons a year per student. This fund was established to help needy muggleborns whose parents did not have enough money to send their children to Hogwarts. Your Mother ran this fund herself up until this time. Afterward it was established that the current Headmaster of Hogwarts was allowed to withdraw these monies for this purpose. As I understand it there are many Clans and a few Houses who also contribute to this fund. When your Mother was a young woman first entering your world I understand that funds were hard to come by and she barely made it through her years at Hogwarts. She could have, of course, attended one of your minor schools but it is well known the educational bar is far lower there than at Hogwarts.

"Many Muggleborns never seek admittance due to lack of funds. This fund allowed two Muggleborns who would never be able to go to Hogwarts otherwise to not only attend but have their school supplies as well each year. Every year two students are sponsored by the Potter Fund. I am not the manager of this fund but I know of at least two Cursebreakers who work for us that were sponsored by this very fund. All the other contributors combined might partly help one or two others. I should mention we at Gringotts have never hired a Cursebreaker from any of the lesser schools."

Harry remained silent. He never knew of the charity fund but he remembered Susan often had him investing in various charities when they were together. It might also explain the Creevy brothers' fascination with him if they had benefited from this fund. He wondered who else was sponsored because by the sound of what he was told there were two Potter Trusties for every year. That also meant there were a lot of muggleborns out there who more than likely were sponsored and were out of work. Harry knew very well the Ministry as it was wouldn't allow many Muggleborns to advance very far with the current laws in place to check them. That would work out to his advantage later. The only real problem he had so far with his account was with the care and living expenses withdraws. His Aunt and Uncle hadn't yet seen a gold flake from any of that so where did it go? He wasn't likely to get answers here either as Dumbledore was the only one who really knew. Either Dumbledore was stealing form him or his Aunt and Uncle were hypocritical bastards. However that was a question he couldn't ask yet. If he started tampering with things to early Dumbledore would get wise to him and that would not do. Not yet.

"That seems to be in order Manager Undar. Thank you for giving me that information. Another matter I would like to discuss with you would be that I wish to gain Minor Peerage Head of House status."

The old goblin before him frowned. "You are young…"

Harry cut him off. "There is no age requirement."

Harry looked into the beady eyes of the goblin behind the desk while he sat and thought about his request. For all of his hospitable manners Harry could see the goblin within him turning this over. _Ahhh, there's that cunning your race is known for…_ "I am not sure that would be wise at your current age."

Without missing a beat Harry spoke again. "Then I call for the Hazard." The goblin blinked at his statement. The Hazard was trial by combat. Harry would face a veteran Goblin Solider and be judged by a Clan Chief. No magic allowed. As arbiters of the old law they decided how and in what ways it was upheld. The Hazard was how Goblins determined of age status amongst their own people. It was also the reason why this particular law had yet to see a successful use. Goblins respected strength of arms, wizards respected strength of magic. Rarely has either been seen side by side.

Undar leaned back in his chair at Harry's request. "There may be no age requirement but your court Guardian _could_ trump this decision within your Ministry _if _we declared it. Even if you succeed at The Hazard your government can easily overrule our decision because Albus Dumbledore meets the requirements as Guardian by _your_ laws." Undar was silent while Harry's mind burned through that bit of information. It wasn't just bad, it was crippling to his plans. It delayed everything he was planning for years. Considering what he was looking forward to in the next few years, that set back could be devastating.

Undar leaned forward into his desk striking a similar pose to Harry's. "I would like to say that I am truly impressed with you so far. You remind me of your grandfather Charles Potter when he first came into the bank. I had only just taken control of the Potter accounts from my father at the time of our first meeting." Harry blinked in surprise at that tidbit. It was incredibly rare for Account managers to pass their seats by heredity. Normally there was some kind of duel or assassination which allowed the strongest to succeed over weaker managers. He learned that was how Thakthor took over his accounts after Sirius died and the accounts merged.

"Your grandfather was very knowledgeable, very driven, and very very well informed. I can draw two conclusions from what I have seen from you so far. One, you have been couched very well for this meeting by someone." Here the goblin looked to Harry's right at the mostly ignored Neville sitting there. "Or two, you are simply very intelligent, well read, and very family dedicated. I lean more to the second. As I said before, your Grandfather was in a very similar place to where you are now. He too sought the Hazard in his day and won. Your government however overruled our decision to accede him to his rights until he was six-teen. This will happen again. I feel honor bound to tell you this having seen it before."

Harry sighed. Granted he didn't look very hard but he was sure no one had succeeded at the Hazard before. Hearing his Grandfather succeeded and still was denied put him in quite the pickle. Harry racked his mind searching for any loophole he could jump through that would give him the desired access he needed. Truth was, there really wasn't one. No Stewart and no Godfather meant he was stuck with Dumbledore running the show. That was going to complicate everything. Harry _needed_ access to his family vault.

"Bloody hell…" Harry closed his eyes while rubbing his temples. After a few moments he looked up and asked, "I can still have things deposited into my family vault right?"

Undar nodded. "Of course Mr. Potter, you wouldn't be able to retrieve any of it until after you ascended to Head of House Potter however. Not unless your Guardian granted you access to do so. Your Guardian cannot enter your Family Vault himself but he can grant you access to do so."

The likelihood of Dumbledore granting him access was about as good as Snape blowing him in the Great Hall. Harry nodded to himself as an idea started to form. _That would solve one of my problems nicely. If I can fix the other one… fuck, if Draco was able to do it, I can. _Harry smiled. By hook or by crook he was getting into his family vault sooner rather than later. He knew Dumbledore would never give him access. The last thing Dumbledore wanted was for Harry to know too much about his family. If he did, Harry would discover his family Legacy. _He mentioned proxies a few seconds ago…_

"Manager Undar, you mentioned proxies a few moments ago. I don't know any adult Wizards or Witches I would trust to act as one and I do not personally own a House Elf. You mentioned goblins could act as proxy though, could you tell me more about that?"

The goblin smiled toothily at him. Unlike most humans who took it as an insult Harry was encouraged by the vicious smile. "Yes I did. That very same loophole was what allowed your Grandfather to conduct the business he did whilst waiting for your Ministry to acknowledge his status as Head of House. I was his proxy and would of course be willing to be yours as well..."

"And the fee?" If there was one thing Harry knew well, Goblins always charged a few for any service they provided. Humans had been giving them stick for years treating them as second class citizens ever since the peace accords between Humans and goblins at the end of the last rebellion. It was one of the ways they struck back for the way they were treated.

Undar chuckled. "It is wonderful to do business with a human who understands. Your father, though a good man from my limited dealings with him, was not so quick to catch on. I can see clearly you are more like your Grandfather. Yes there is a fee in using me as a proxy for account access. Said fee varies depending on what you need." Harry saw he was missing something by the way the goblins eyes glittered but was still unable to catch it. That little glimmer had gotten brighter and brighter as they talked but Harry still couldn't figure out what he goblin was implying.

Going on a hunch Harry asked, "Guardian willing of course?"

A half satisfied look registered on the goblins face when he nodded. He was still missing something though. He sat quietly for a while sorting his thoughts and thinking furiously. He could almost feel like the goblin was trying to tell him something but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

As it stood he couldn't get legal control over his vaults without Ministry backing. Something he could get in his trial in a few days but would expose his plans and tip his hand. Not something he wanted to do. Ms. Weasley would most assuredly know something was up when she came to do school shopping in a few days if he emptied his vault because she was Dumbledore's proxy for his vault which meant he couldn't withdraw much yet. Thing was he couldn't do anything about it without going through the Hazard which would also tip his hand because they would have to inform the Ministry to make it permanent or legal. Same thing with his Proxies, couldn't be changed without tipping his hand. Minutes slipped by while Harry tried to dissect what he learned with what he knew.

He gave his account manager a shrewd look after he finished. "Correct me if I am wrong Manager Undar, but moments ago when we were talking you mentioned that even if I completed the Hazard the Ministry _could_ revoke it _if_ it was declared by _my _people's laws. Would there be any particular reason why it _wouldn't_ be declared? Also, you mentioned my Grandfather used you as Proxy yet was denied Minor Age Peerage by the Ministry of Magic. If he didn't accede, how did he change proxies?"

Harry felt like he hit the mother lode when the goblin before him slowly grinned and nodded. "Very astute Mr. Potter. Sometimes such reports are known to be… misfiled from time to time. Of course our Elders are very busy with running our own government so sometimes such errors can occur. Such things have been known to happen - especially after a particularly _good_ Hazard. Any removal of proxies might draw attention to the accident and we would have to correct it but simply adding one sometimes might accidently go undeclared. We are not an infallible people. Errors do occur at times. The last time such an error was documented would have been around your Grandfathers time."

_Perfect._ That was what he needed. Access _and_ under the radar. Of course there was still the issue of impressing the Elder first but he felt he was up to the task. _Of course I could still use the cabinet if I had to…_

"Understandable Manager Undar. I am sure it wouldn't come as much of a surprise for you to learn I would like all of our dealings to be quiet."

"Of course."

"Excellent. The Hazard it is." Harry stated with a bloodthirsty smile to make any goblin grin.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. 11 more to post before I run out of steam. Hope people are enjoying the fic so far.


	4. The Hazard it is

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 3, The Hazard it is**

'_As I contemplated my life up to this point, where I was going, and what I wanted to do, I couldn't help but whisper the Shepard's Prayer to myself. Dear Lord, please don't let me fuck up.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Neville and Harry waited in an antechamber next to the arena where Manager Undar told them the Hazard would take place. The room was based off the ancient Spartan arenas aside from a couple of torches burning in their brackets and the two chairs the young mages sat in. Or the Spartans could have gotten their ideas from the Goblins. Harry didn't really know which it was and was sure if he brought it up might have sparked an incident. Prior Goblin Rebellions have started for less. The Goblins were a very proud people.

Neville, ever shy and unsure, had been silent the entire time they had been waiting there. For his part, Harry was having an incredibly hard time trying not to get worried or angry at the young Longbottom's silence. For all his best attempts he still kept seeing the Neville of old, and he wondered if this Neville would ever be that person, or would he be someone else… maybe someone who didn't like Harry. The disturbing thing for Harry was this applied to everyone he was likely to meet. No answers came to him during the several long minutes of pondering, and in the end Harry decided to wait and see. First, these people were not the people he knew from old; every single one of them, in his Shades at least, were the products of choices and circumstances that hadn't happened in the current timeline, and likely wouldn't happen. These people were not the ones he had come to know, and it all came back to the clean slate idea he had when he first 'woke up'. Secondly, the last thing he wanted to do was use future knowledge of their behaviors or mannerisms to influence them against their will; to Harry it seemed…criminal to take advantage of them in this way, and more than a little Dumbledore'ish. _Better to let things develop as they should. Or would. Whatever. _And lastly, who was to say that his knowledge of the people in his Shades, like Neville, were even accurate at all in this timeline? Each was different in small ways, so who was to say who anyone really was or will be anymore?

All of this pretty much led Harry to the conclusion that he would have to take _everyone_ at face value despite who, what, or how they were in past Shades. If he started walking around trying to 'shape' people into who he wanted them to be he would be no better than Dumbledore for one, and for another he would most likely destroy whatever potential they had or would have had. _Circe, I am really starting to hate Time Travel._ _The headache alone has to be the reason for why Wizards are not meant to meddle in time._ It was killing him already.

Just like he had to take others at face value, he needed to get his own house in order. Harry started going over his plans for navigating the Straits of Dumbledore. _Tricky…_

Harry had been an Auror, politician, assassin, Spectre, wasteland survivor, and a Warrior Mage. He was skilled in the deadliest of arts: blades, clubs, firearms, wands, staffs, staves, and hand-to-hand combat. He knew the Government system quite well and even knew the underground circles of the criminal classes. He could strike out alone, or work with others - even lead an army if he needed to.

He was trained and skilled in Firearms ranging from pistols, a wide range of rifles, and even heavy caliber weapons. He could take them apart, service and clean, modify magically, and kill at short to long range. His spell knowledge was extensive on top of all that; given a wand, stave, or staff, he could, when his magic core matured, out-magic almost anyone. He was even pretty sure he could give Dumbledore and Voldemort solid runs for their gold - not that his magic core was greater than most, but he was inventive. Still, he was pretty sure his magic core was in the upper class and that wasn't mentioning his knowledge of the really old or forbidden magics. People didn't know how to react to things they have never seen before, and with the collective experiences held within him he was already starting to connect the dots in all the problems and issues he had before.

He could play the law or the criminal circles like a fine piano, and if he so chose by using their own rules against them. He could speak five different languages fluently, and a handful like Gobbledygook with adequate ease. Then there was his knowledge of runes ranging from classic to obscure, which gave him the ability to create magical items, lay wards, or even perform various rituals flawlessly.

Harry sighed into the silent room ignoring Neville's sidelong glance. The problem was that none of those things really mattered to him. What good was it to be able to kill a threat if there was no one to protect? What good was there in being the best when there was no one to share in your glory? Did he always want to be alone all the time? Seriously, what good was any of these things, the training, the knowledge, the power, if there was no one in your life to love? Or to love you for you? That had always been his biggest problem. He spent most of his time cutting himself off from people because of the stupid boy who lived crap. Even then, Ron's jealousy would creep into their friendships and he even had doubts at times about Hermione.

What good was any of it if he did not _live._ As Harry thought about it he realized that none of it mattered. Dumbledore wanted him to be a weapon, well, Harry was already there in regards of talent, skills, knowledge, ability, and mindset. If he let the old goat have his way then that would be all he would ever be. _No_, he decided, _I've lived that life and I'm not doing it again_. He also did not want to be like Draco; flaunting his wealth or his name and having to buy or intimidate people into being his friends. Not good either. _So many problems._

Not many solutions.

He was sure it would take a lot of work in order to enjoy the kinds of things he wanted. He would have to literally outplay Dumbledore _and_ Voldemort, and that would require thinking and some serious planning. Once in play however, it might actually offer him something he never had in any of his Shades: peace and happiness. Yes, there was a war coming, but he was more than prepared for it and like he was thinking just a moment ago, life was not worth living without the little things. Simple things like holding a girlfriend's hand, playing a prank, or hanging out with friends. Seriously, it was those moments that were worth more than all the gold and knowledge that he possessed - and it all started here: in the bowels of the Outcast Goblin Nation.

Neville's flustered voice broke him from his thoughts. "You sure about this Harry?"

Harry turned to look at his wingman, seeing the worry in his face. "Yeah. There's a lot of stuff going on mate, and none of it you understand or know about. This is the only way for me to get control of my inheritance without Dumbledore or the Ministry shit canning it. You had to have been keeping with the Prophet over the last couple of months right?"

Neville nodded; like Harry he knew perfectly well that Harry was being painted in the worst possible light. Of course neither Neville nor his Gran believed any of it, but it was obvious that the Ministry did. "Good so you know the Ministry's got it out for me. Hell, _someone _in the Ministry even sent two Dementors to Surrey trying to kill me, and I've got a trial in a couple of days for underage magic. Can't prove it that it was the Ministry mind you, but it's awfully suspicious that two Dementors show up and I'm being tried for underage magic. You just watch; Fudge will hit me with the full Wizengamot and everything. He's out to kill my reputation and silence me because I've been telling anyone who will listen that Voldemort's back."

"Blimey Harry! Is that why you ended up at the Manor all messed up? Getting away from the Dementors?" Neville asked.

Harry turned sharply to look at his friend again. "No, that came a few days later." _Although that's not a bad lead in to what happened with the order… _Harry doubted any of them got a good enough look at him tearing through them to know it was him that handed them their arses. _I could say that after the Dementor attack I woke up with two people knocking me back out. Woke up later left for dead and made a break for it. Just happened to end up at Neville's place. They might buy it… _Harry thought a bit more about. _Then again, maybe not…_

Before Harry could get any further in trying to organize and ponder his multiple dilemmas he was finally summoned into the arena. There, standing in a line, he saw six goblins dressed in leather armor waiting for him. To his right sitting in a set of stone stands were several goblins, but what surprised Harry the most was that the Skirnir Kraltaslamak was in the stands watching intently. Harry stopped moving forward when he noticed him. _Fuck me, the leader of the Outcast Goblin Nation is the judge?_ The Goblin King sat forward in his great stone throne watching the proceedings in the flickering torchlight, his strong chiseled face showing his curiosity.

Harry raised his fist to his chest and bowed at the waist in acknowledgement. It was actually a huge honor even if he left out the fact the Skirnir Kraltaslamak was here to see him get his arse beat, the entire act was huge. As Harry straightened after a slight nod of acknowledgment Undar walked him over to the other warriors and signaled him to join them. He could hear whisperings in the gallery break out as his recognition of the honor being shown to him, and his response to it.

"Listen Neville," he murmured to his terrified friend, "this is between me, the Goblins, and you. You can't tell anyone what happens down here alright?" Harry waited for the teen to nod and cracked a grin. "Thanks Nev, I know it's a lot to ask but I'll try to bring you up to speed later."

Neville asked with a bit of fear in his voice. "Do I have to do anything?"

Harry shook his head. "No mate, just wait over in the stands and watch the fight. This is all pretty much on me now."

"Pick your opponent." The surly Goblin gruffly ordered, and crossed his arms intimidatingly.

Harry looked carefully at each of them before he smiled widely at the goblin showing all his teeth, "Just one? Not very sporting of you…" he quipped, and Harry ignored the flustered stammering of the insulted goblin as he looked back to the line-up and critically assessed them. "Give me your best of the lot then. I can battle no weaker before the eyes of the Most High Skirnir Kraltaslamak, Strongest Lord of Lords over all in the Outcast Clans." More whispers broke out over his words, as to them Harry had just openly declared he had a death wish. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he saw a slight tug at the Goblin Kings lips when it was translated to him what Harry had said.

The goblin doing all the talking in the pit smiled feraly at Harry. "Blade, Bone, or Tooth _whelp_?"

Harry could almost see the desire in the older goblin to kill him right then and there. Once again Harry decided to go all out; he needed to impress the goblins and knew that the only way to do so was to meet them in the field they most respected: combat. He knew blades would be any and all slashing weapons, Bone would be bludgeoning types, and Tooth would be piercing. Each weapon type usually corresponded with different styles of combat, and only the true weapon masters knew multiples that crossed types.

"Everything."

The goblin looked up with a pleading look to the Skirnir Kraltaslamak, and a slight slow nod was the only movement he received in return. The goblin turned, barking orders to those in the line and they all moved off to the edge of the arena.

Harry had already moved to his side of the field and looked at the weapon rack with a critical eye. He took off the shirt he had woken up in earlier and threw it to the side, ignoring Neville's gasp at what his body looked like. Harry strapped two short swords onto his back; jerking at the straps and tightening them to form an X before slipping two daggers into his boots. Two long blades that closely resembled filet knives he strapped to his sides, and he strapped two more to his thighs. Lastly Harry picked up two of the war clubs, taking a moment to flip them one way and the other to get a feel for their balance.

He turned, looking forward at his opponent and noticing without surprise that it was the one that was talking a few moments ago. "Hey Neville! What kind of odds do you think I'm getting?" Harry asked as if merely talking about the weather.

A scared, and very nervous chuckle was his answer. "I really don't think you want to know."

Harry nodded at that. "Put me down for twenty galleons. You know I'm good for it." He turned his head over his shoulder to look at the pale wizard and grinned reassuringly, "Don't worry mate, it'll be okay."

"Somehow Harry, when you say it's going to be okay I don't feel any better."

"Look on the bright side mate, you now have your very own 'I followed Harry Potter into something bum-fucking-stupid' story. That's got to be worth a laugh to someone somewhere."

Ignoring Neville's flushed and shocked face at his flippant reply Harry stepped up to the center of the ring. Like Harry his opponent was without armor and equipped with two maces, a brace of daggers, and two swords, but unlike Harry he held a wicked looking pike as his main weapon. Everything about that brutal weapon positively screamed pain and death; all the way from the impressively sharp blades to the slight shine of whatever coated them.

Harry readied himself and pushed the surprised murmurs of the gallery out of his mind; giving his opponent his full attention. He could feel his heart begin to pound in his chest; sounding like a war drum thrumming through his entire being. The bloodlust of the other night began coursing through him, and Harry felt a wide smile break over his face as the battle madness started to pound within him. Images of prior conflicts raged through him like a tide, and his opponent raised an eyebrow at the unexpected reaction to being in an arena with the best combat goblin Gringotts had assembled for the Hazzard. Harry could see the dark glint in his eye as he adjusted his form to something more akin with what he saw in Harry's. A toothy smile graced the goblin's face: kindred spirits they were in this moment, and both knew it.

Harry whispered to himself, "Dance with me Goblin, I'm sure you know the tune…"

**"Drerk Kai!"**

The referee, an excited looking goblin whose face was contorted into something resembling amusement, had barely finished saying **'Kai'** before the warrior goblin lunged at Harry; thrusting the bladed pole-arm at his face. Harry could instinctually feel where the strike was going to land and had already started spinning just away even before the creature's muscles had moved to strike. His opponent's form was flawless as the weapon came hard to a stop, as far as it could without over-balancing his reach. Harry couldn't see it but he felt the pike spin slightly in the air, bringing one of the side hooks outward a bit which, against a normal opponent, if the goblin reversed his thrust and pulled hard enough, would sever his head. Harry however, was not a normal opponent. He lashed out with his right club to deflect the oncoming strike while quickly following the parry with the left to counterattack, using the momentum of his spin to put the goblin off-balance. This was followed by a great overhead strike that rang louder than the spectator's blood thirsty cries. However at the last possible second the goblin seemed to read what the young mage was going to do after the brutal attack and threw himself into a roll, using the momentum created by Harry's follow-up to get some distance between them.

For just one second both of them stared into each other's eyes; harsh smiles on each of their faces, and their eyes dancing with bloodlust as muscles stretched taunt and hard on their bones. Harry felt the war cry deep within him burst out into a primal yell as he lunged forward for the second round.

This fast pace carried on for some time as both of them fought with everything they had. The spectators' screaming shook the stone ceiling with its ferocity, but to the two in the ring it was nothing but an annoying buzz in their ears; the pounding of blood in their veins far louder than their surroundings. Neither paid any attention to the crowd's reactions to their dance as they were both far too busy trying to avoid getting killed by an opponent who was far better than either could have guessed or hoped.

There was no time to plan strategy, only to react, counter, and counterattack. Harry allowed what he had started to call his 'Battle Madness' guide his steps. He found himself swinging, dodging, or jumping from where he felt his opponent would strike, and attacked with pure instinct where he felt his opponent would be the millisecond after. Considering the way the goblin fought back Harry felt that the creature was operating on much the same level of instinct; both of their senses sharpened to perfection by long years of battle. To the spectators it looked like a very carefully choreographed fight, but to the two in the ring it was anything but, and only their innate senses of combat kept them from serious harm.

After several passes into the fight Harry lost the first of the war clubs and was blooded first. His left eyebrow spurted blood like a geyser for a moment before running down into his quickly swelling eye from the end of the pike. He never saw nor felt the reverse spin that allowed the butt-end of the pike to open the wound but managed to salvage the situation by using the goblin's pre-emptive finishing strike to shatter the haft of the pike. Harry knew that pole arms were notoriously hard to break, which, other than the reach it offered, was one of their main advantages. This was largely due to the fact that the head of the brutal weapon generally had foot-long protective sheaths to protect the shaft where an opponent normally managed to attack the weapon. His time in the Wastes however, provided him with the knowledge of how to beat the weapon. He had learned that they had one small weak point, but only if you could get safely inside of their reach. The middle was not protected because it would over balance the weapon, and such a thing would only hamper its effectiveness. It was there, in that unprotected place, that he struck with the war club after almost getting skewered into the floor.

Undeterred, his goblin opponent continued using both broken shaft and pointed head to keep Harry on the ground. Thanks to the awkwardness of wielding the remnants of his weapon however, Harry had the upper hand and was able to turn the tables; forcing the goblin to switch weapons. The momentarily breathing space provided by his counter was more than enough to get back on his feet and get back on the offence. With both using closer range weapons the fight took on a far quicker pace.

Harry used the war club and one of the daggers until the goblin managed to remove the former with a tricky manoeuver. Despite the fact that he had lost his weapon however, the disarming allowed Harry to get even with his foe by punting a piece of the pike he felt with his foot, forcing the goblin to deflect it with one of his swords. Harry used the break in his barrage of attacks to push forward; feinting with the sword he drew in his right while getting a full three inches of the dagger in his left into his opponent's side. He wasn't quick enough to get away unscathed and found himself rewarded for his momentary victory with a slash to the thigh bringing more of his life's blood splashing onto the floor.

As the fight continued both of them received a few more wounds, and Harry started to get worried. When the fight started he was completely confident in his abilities to win, but as the fight continued he found that the fatigue settled in quicker than he was expecting. This body was in nowhere near the shape of his prior ones, and that miscalculation had already cost him several wounds as his leaden limbs did not respond as quickly as his mind assessed the threats against him. He redoubled his efforts; pushing himself past his limits as he decided that the next few attacks were going to decide the outcome of this fight one way or another.

Harrys blitz charge cost him most of the weapons he had strapped to himself, but didn't slow his rush. When he was disarmed by the goblin before him Harry just drew another weapon and kept charging forcing his foe to retreat. He managed to remove one of the goblin's maces, two daggers, and one of his swords. He himself only had the two weapons in his hands by this time, and they were the last remnants of his sword, and one of the long knives that better resembled a filet knife. His left eye was swollen completely closed and he was sporting several slashes as well as a few brutal looking stab wounds; all of them shallow enough to not be life threatening and, alone, none of them were overly worrying.

Combined was a different matter.

His foe hadn't fared much better, and although he still had both his eyes available to him he walked with a limp, and Harry did manage to get both his arms which made his strikes less accurate. The battleground around them was littered with fallen and broken weapons neither combatants could risk retrieving. Harry knew if he managed to get disarmed of either of the two in his hands then this fight was all but lost. As Harry rained blow after blow his opponent seemed to realize this fact as well; a slight misstep by Harry was all the advantage he needed to turn the tables back to his favor. A fast hard strike from the sword sent Harry's shattered blade spiralling away before he realized it. As soon as he lost his grip on the weapon Harry closed the remaining distance bringing his knee into his opponent's nose before he could finish his move before following it up with several up-close punches that sent the goblin reeling backwards, momentarily stunned, on his back.

Breathing hard Harry leapt forward to finish him; transferring his dagger into his right hand while grabbing the leather straps of his opponent's weapons kit. He stared into the goblins eyes and watched them track to the blade before flickering back Harry's smouldering green orbs. He knew he was finished and his life was forfeit to the human above him. He had lost this dance with death, but he wasn't sad. No warrior true to the Path would be; it was a glorious battle with a surprisingly skilled foe. Thanks to Susan Bones and Bill Weasley Harry knew just enough of the Goblin culture to see these thoughts pass through the goblins eyes. With a final nod he raised his chin signifying his acceptance of his conquest.

Just as Harry realized that he had won, the avalanche of bloodthirsty screams hit him. From the corner of his eye he could see that there was not a seated figure in the stands; even the Skirnir Kraltaslamak had risen from his throne to scream his approval of what he had seen. Knowing he had succeeded in what he had to do Harry slowly rose from his kneeling position, still looking down at his foe before offering his right hand toward the goblin after he had reversed the blade.

The goblin slowly raised his hand, accepting the handle, and Harry pulled him to his feet. Once upright Harry turned his back on him; leaving him standing in the arena with the only weapon to have survived their battle.

"**Sen! Iyiles Rakip Tomak Daha fazla cesaretin ondan ayrılmaması icin!"** Harry stopped turning to look at the Skirnir Kraltaslamak whom was shouting at one of his people. The one he was pointing at leapt from the stands into the area below, and after catching his balance from the ten foot fall made his way to Harry. He handed him a potion that he recognized from a thousand encounters and downed it without hesitation. It didn't take long for the numb feeling to start coursing through him. Neville had managed to reach him along with Manager Undar by the time its effects had begun to kick in.

"Blimey Harry, where did you learn to fight like that?" Neville asked in wonder.

Harry rolled his head on his neck while slowly breathing in an attempt to calm his racing heart and purge the adrenalin coursing through his veins. "Neville me lad," he mumbled lowly, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Let's chalk it up to an occupational necessity for being Harry Potter yeah? You know how to handle a sword don't you?"

His friend nodded, still looking at Harry in wonder, "Yeah, but I'm nowhere _near_ that good. Bloody Hell, I don't think my _instructor_ is that good!"

Harry, having finally gotten his wind, looked down at his account manager. "Manager Undar, would you do me the honour of translating what the Skirnir Kraltaslamak said a moment ago. I caught something about boldness and the healer but didn't understand **Rakip Tomak**."

Undar smiled up at him showing many of his old, and rather intimidating needle-like teeth. "Our Lord of Lords said, 'You, Heal Rakip Tomak so that more boldness does not leak from him.' In our culture it is tradition that each warrior when he comes of age be given his warrior name. Mine for example is **Ukgic Surec. **In man tongue it means something like 'Underestimated Steel'. **Rakip Tomak** roughly translates as 'Feral Madman' in your tongue. It seems you have indeed impressed our Lord of Lords."

xxxxxxxx

Both teens exited the bank, but despite the summer heat Harry kept his borrowed cloak's hood up and over his face. He left Manager Undar with several instructions for what he wanted done and was assured it would be taken care of with withdrawals from the Potter Family Vault, a mass liquidation of various sundry items, and auctions. In his pocket Harry had a pouch stuffed with gold, and his wallet felt like it was three times as big as it was from being stuffed with pounds. More than enough to carry him over until he had time to visit the bank again.

He was brought out of his thoughts on what he was going to do about the Order of the Phoenix by the young man keeping stride with him as they passed through the Alley. "Okay Harry, I don't really want to pry but something's going on and I'd like to know what it is."

From under the hood of his cloak Harry took a sidelong glance at him. "Alright. Ever had a Roundabout?"

"Huh?"

"At Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, have you ever had a Roundabout?"

"Err, no… I don't think I have ever seen one on the menu."

Harry smiled despite the fact it made his face hurt. "You wouldn't have. You can only get one by asking for it so the only way to know about it is if someone tells you. It's kind of Mr. Fortescue's little prank on everyone. We'll go there and get one then and I'll tell you what I can." They moved past a tight knot of people before making sight of the building. "So the goblins wouldn't give a mirror. How bad is it?" Harry asked referring to his injuries.

Neville shrugged. "Hell Harry you were always ugly. Wipe the blood off your face and I don't think anyone will notice."

Harry smile wider and a chuckle sounded in him before he almost doubled over from the pain in his ribs. "Oh fuck Nev, don't make me laugh, I'm barely holding together as it is…" Despite his jibe Harry saw the slight flush and nervous body posture that showed him the shy boy had tried really hard to emulate Harry's nonchalance.

After a moment as an afterthought he looked over at his friend. "Oh well. All the birds were always hitting on me and ignoring you so I suppose it's only fair for you to get a fair shot at it."

Harry watched Neville's confidence grow just a bit at the jibe. "Berk."

"Tosser." Harry fired back once they entered the shop.

Harry had Neville order them two Roundabouts while he grabbed a seat in the back with a clear view of the other patrons and the street. He made sure to keep his hood up since he didn't want anyone to see him injured yet. It would ruin the effect when he allowed the Order to find him later. He wasn't supposed to know about Headquarters yet so he couldn't go there without giving the game up, and besides, he didn't even know if the current secret transferred with him to this life. He knew they were looking for him and Harry was willing to bet a bottle of some 50 year old whiskey on the fact they were. The only kink to work out was how to allow it to happen so as not to screw up what he started.

Neville came back after a few moments with two massive bowls of ice-cream. The Roundabout consisted of six scoops ice-cream flat in the bowl, topped with about everything anyone could ever want on a desert. The sides had bananas encircling it, and a lit sparker rested in the middle of each. Harry was never sure what kind of ice-cream was in it but he knew that no two spoonful's had ever tasted the same. Even the toppings seemed to change flavor depending on the flavor of the ice-cream. It was all the Ice-cream goodness any kid could ever want.

Harry thanked Neville while he started in on his massive dish and enjoyed the way Neville's face lit up at the new treat when he tried his. He waited for a while more before he started explaining to Neville while also keeping his voice as low as possible.

"Some things I can't say here, too many ears about you know? I will tell you that controlling my family assets is core to a lot of my plans. Of those plans I will say that I don't like to be held in the dark, and someone's been screening my mail. Until I showed up at your place I've been a virtual prisoner at the muggle place I was staying. Dumbledore has guards set at the house, but the Dementor attack still slipped through. They never told me or talked to me about anything. Ron and Hermione haven't told me anything either - Dumbledore's orders I would hazard." He gave a small chuckle after a moment, "Excuse the pun." Neville gave a weak smile in return; still shocked that Harry was talking so easily about getting beaten half to death. "So I've been virtually in the dark about everything… except the Prophet giving me the stick right in the arse. Personally I'm just tired of it. It's just been a couple of months since Ced died and Voldefuck came back.

"The Ministry is just burying their heads in the sand and giving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants, and I would imagine Dumbledore is trying to do something but he's getting arse fucked worse than I am. Not much he can do with the Dark Putz lying low and the Ministry checking his prostate. Every year I've been involved in some kind of fucked up shit, and this year I just want to be a kid. Get into the skirts of a girl… or three, relax, and have fun. Besides, we have the joys of OWLs this year and I really can't afford another crisis right now. Dumbledore somehow ended up as my Guardian since my Godfather was in Azkaban, so the old codger controls everything. Dunno about you but I really don't like the idea of a member of a different house having that kind of control of the Family you know? Even if I am the last of the line."

"Damn," Neville breathed after a second's thinking, "I can see where you are coming from about your House stuff. What are you going to do now?"

Harry raised his head so he could see Neville better and so that Neville could see his smirk. "After we leave here I'm gunna kick the hornets' nests and see what happens."

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. 11 more to post before I run out of steam. Hope people are enjoying the fic so far.


	5. Alibi

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 4, Alibi**

'_It didn't start hitting home until I saw Sirius just what was happening to me. I was going through the motions and yeah, I was preparing and had accepted my new existence as real but when I saw Sirius it was like a switch was thrown. I knew I had to get control of myself because I knew a lot of people in my various pasts and every single one of them was alive without the memories I had.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Sirius Orion Black, last full-blooded member of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, Escaped Convict from the previously-thought inescapable prison Azkaban, Marauder, Godfather of one Harry Potter, and Ladies man in his own mind, sat in a chair in the attic of his family's home staring down at a half-empty bottle of Fire Whiskey. Currently he was 'babysitting' Molly's brood with the addition of Hermione Granger… and he was not happy about it.

Dumbledore had marshaled everyone he could that wasn't currently confined to the Hogwarts Infirmary to search for his godson while he was trusted with keeping watch over the kids instead of searching himself. Sirius didn't have anything against the teens personally; hell he owed Hermione his life and genuinely liked the twins, but his place, in his mind, was supposed to be out there looking for Harry – especially as he was the boy's godfather. Infuriatingly however Dumbledore had done his 'ordering' around, pun very much intended, so he was on kid watch to protect a handful of hormonal, cooped-up, impatient teens to keep them safe from external threats, as well as internal since his family was more than a bit on the darker side of their culture. The thing that really riled the Head of the House of Black was that he was 'protecting' the kids in a house that couldn't be found unless you knew where to look for it, and that was covered with wards dark enough to detour even the most persistent who happen to accidently find it.

To be quite honest they hardly needed a watcher.

The secret that of half the Order had been positively ruined in combat, and that Harry was missing lasted for all of thirty minutes before the kids found out, and Molly had had to take the Twins' wands when they pulled the fact they were of age and could look for Harry on their own out of the bag. Sirius winced at the memory, that went over about as well as a ton of bricks. Ron and his sister didn't improve things either, but it was surprisingly Hermione who was most vocal. She reminded the Headmaster, forcibly and with great volume Sirius reminded himself, that she had warned him this was going to happen. Harry, she told them, did not like being left in the dark, and if left alone, friendless, with no news, and with only uninformative letters it was inevitable that he was going to break out of that horrible prison with the Muggles. Dumbledore was not overly moved by her speech and had banished all of the children to the second floor soon after, allowing them only to come down at meal times.

And so, here _he_ was babysitting, but then again, now that he thought about it, his assignment _could_ have had something to do with the fact that he had quite forcibly agreed with her… and poked Dumbledore in the chest… twice.

Sirius despondently poured himself another shot of the amber liquid and listlessly raised it to his lips – but his drowning of sorrows was interrupted when the barn owl sitting in the attic widow finally caught his attention. He frowned for a moment but removed the letter before watching in puzzlement as the Owl immediately flew out the window. When he saw that the letter was addressed to him he felt his heart skip a beat and the drunken haze clear from his mind. Sirius quickly opened the letter scanning the contents, his eyes widening further and further the more he read.

_Dear Sirius_

_Listen, I don't know if you're in the country but I had to risk sending this to you. Something's happened and I need an expert to help me 'disappear.' _

_A couple of days ago a couple of Dementors showed up in Surry and tried to kill my cousin and me. I had to use Prongs and even then it was a near thing. Don't worry, I'm okay and so is Dudley, though I don't think he shares in that opinion. Dumbledore sent a howler to my Aunt and Uncle so they let me stay there but that night I saw two hooded cloaked people stalking around the house. I guess we have something here that was preventing them from getting in but I panicked and made a run for it. The Dursleys where gone at the time so they should be alight, though to be honest I really couldn't care one way or the other except for the fact I wouldn't wish Death Eaters on anyone. _

_I've been Expelled from Hogwarts, got a trial where they want to snap my wand, and people looking for me and I don't know if their Ministry or Death Eaters. Hell, I don't even have my wand on me or anything. I couldn't find it that night and had to risk bolting without it. Both groups are out to get me right now so I'm really not wanting to get found defenseless. I don't know what's going on. Ron and Hermione aren't telling anything but I see the signs in the Prophet for how things are looking. _

_I don't know who to trust. I have no idea how to get to the Burrow from here, I don't know where Hermione lives and Hogwarts is too far. I need you to come to me. I'm a couple of blocks down from the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. I'll be on the look for you as I saw you the very first time before I got on the Knight Bus my Third Year. You know what I mean._

_ Anyone else shows up and I'll take my chances going Muggle. In a day or two it's not going to matter anyways because I'll be on the run as much as you are. As it is I had to sneak into Diagon Alley to send this owl, with the Aurors patrolling the alley and the fact I don't have any money on me and in my condition I've risked about all I can being so close to the Magical world. _

_ Harry._

xxxxxxxx

Harry watched the barn owl fly away from the Owl Office before turning back to his companion and leading them down through the Alley as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Kicking the hornets' nest?" Neville enquired with a raised eyebrow, and Harry laughed at the tone in his friend's voice.

"Yup; need to establish my alibi. It'd be poor sport to just show up all beat to hell and have no plausible reason why - don't want anyone to know what I've been up to."

Neville nodded but looked a little shaken with Harry's plan so far, and his rather light-hearted treatment of the entire situation. "So, what's the story then? I take it we're not going to tell anyone you came to my place or that we came here, right?"

"Right in one," Harry returned with a grin before turning his eyes forwards and surveying the passing faces once more. "The story is that I ran away from the Muggles, forgot my wand in my panic from seeing two cloaked people and made my way to Diagon Alley like a bat out of hell. That letter is addressed to the only person who I can trust to come and get me, and it also solves the mystery of where I've been and why I've been hiding. I got my trial in a day or two and I've done all I can for the moment, so I might as well let Dumbledore put me in whatever hidey hole he has set up to keep me contained – hell, I'll even get some treatment for these bloody injuries as well." He grimaced after a moment and a small shiver went through him, "I swear that man's got an unnatural interest in me."

Neville was quiet a moment before he whispered haltingly, "Um, Gran thinks he's… well, you know… a poof." At Harry's quick look Neville shrugged nervously and continued with the reasoning behind the rumor, "No wife or kids or anything like that, and by the sounds of it he's never shown the slightest interest in a romantic partner – despite the fact that he was once the Handsome Savior when he defeated Grindelwald. She's expressed concerns to some of the Dames in her circle that she wasn't sure if it was just men he liked… or if it was boys as well." By this point Neville was red with embarrassment at the topic, and Harry was staring at him with a slack jaw. "All the boy grandkids from Gran's circle have been warned about it and to keep quiet in case it's not true. Just thought you might want to know just in case his interests in you become… well, disturbing."

As they passed into the Leaky Cauldron Harry finally got over his shock and threw back his head before laughed loudly despite the aches and pains that shot through him. He was still laughing madly when both teens passed into the Muggle side.

"I_ love_ your Gran Neville, and thanks for the warning; I'll keep it in mind and under my hat… but you just gave me an idea for a great prank this year. Wanna help?" Harry asked with mischief lighting up his eyes until they seemed to twinkle just like the old man himself.

"Me?" Neville asked pointing at himself in disbelief, and Harry nodded with a smile on his face and the mental picture of the aftermath of the prank running through his head. "I don't know anything about pranks Harry, and I'm not very good with magic to be of much help."

Harry shook his head and gripped Neville's shoulder with a reassuring grin, "Bollocks! You'll do fine Nev, and besides, you'll be surprised what you learn when planning or pulling a prank." He gave the shy Longbottom a winning grin, "Come on mate, it'll make us legends! Even the Twins were never able to prank the Headmaster."

"Um, I'll think about it okay?"

Harry nodded while looking around and saw that they were a couple of blocks away from the entrance to Diagon Alley. "This'll do. See you September first mate. I'll catch my ride from here." He moved to turn around but then froze and grinned back at Neville, "Oh, and give your Gran a thank you from me."

"If you're sure Harry…" After Harry's nod they shook hands and Harry settled into the nearby shadows for his wait. He had chosen this location because the alley behind him was a dead end and it also offered a clear view of the ally in front of him as well as the street. Harry settled his battered body down behind one of the dustbins to wait for Sirius to show up in his animagus form. To fill in the time he had available to him he started to sort a few things in his mind.

Harry had put a lot of thought in how he was going to do this whole shebang, and it had required a lot of thinking on his part; from all options he could have taken all but Sirius had been eliminated for various reasons.

He could have made for the Grangers. Despite what he wrote to Sirius his current Shade knew they lived in Colchester, at least he was pretty sure it was this shade that knew it, and had even had their phone number. It would have made sense to make for their place because he wasn't supposed to know Hermione was at Headquarters. Harry had also thought of making for the Burrow because even with all the Weasleys at Headquarters Harry was willing to bank Dumbledore would have put alert wards on it in case he showed up. However, for his plan to work Neither was very feasible. Harry had dismissed Hogwarts and Hogsmeade immediately because of the distance it required to travel there – it was just implausible under the circumstances; he was injured, 'scared' and without any help as well as being paranoid, and Harry didn't think for a moment that Dumbledore or anybody else would buy the story that he travelled through highly public places to get to safety. He could do it, but it really wasn't worth the effort.

For the opposite reason he dismissed Ms. Figg's place; he'd been gone too long. No, he needed a place that would take a kid a couple of days to get to but that wasn't too far away. Harry had put an ad in the proverbial paper, and so Diagon Alley had graciously put forwards its application for the position of Operation 'Get Harry The Hell Out Of Trouble'. He knew he'd have to explain how he got the injuries he had, and the last thing he wanted to do was tell the truth so he needed a cover for that too, and one that wasn't completely absurd. Harry had the amusing idea of telling Dumbledore that it was the Telletubbies that had beaten them up. "They were so evil!" he chuckled in the shadows but shook his head after a moment to discard the thought; as amusing as it was it wasn't overly conducive to his actual plans.

His first inclination was to say it was done by the Dementors, but the fact Ms. Figg had seen him after that fight scratched that option out; she would have reported that he was shaken but fine to the old coot. He needed a story that was believable, yet fabricated and, most importantly, a story that couldn't be proved one way or the other. That was a tall order, especially since he had to sell it to Dumbledore. Despite what he thought of the old codger Harry respected the fucker's intelligence.

The idea that Neville gave him earlier about the Death Eaters also wouldn't pass a more thorough inspection. While on the outside it looked good, the fact of the matter was that the Order would be looking into both the Ministry and Voldemort's forces to find out who did it. Snape would rule out anyone on the dark side being involved, while Tonks and Kinsley would rule out the Ministry. It would be hard for them to do but they could prove that none of the current players were involved, and that situation would leave Harry up shit creek without a paddle. Likewise Harry didn't think Dumbledore would allow for a mythical third player to stand for long, especially without some kind of evidence of their involvement and existence. However, this was about the only option left.

This left him with very few options that would be able to evade the intelligence gathering efforts of his 'guardian', and Harry was a little disgruntled that he had so little breathing room. When he first thought of doing it this way, in the shadows, his pride had immediately rebelled against it, but the longer he thought on the whole debacle the more sense it made. He was not supposed to be this way; cunning and deceiving and knowledgeable; his friends, guards and jailors 'knew' that he was hot-headed and weak. All in all it was less effort to allow them to see what they had tried to make. In his quite well-thought out opinion they would be too busy looking into who set the trap they fell into, and who had torn a rather bloody hole in their forces to notice any small discrepancies in Harry's story. Harry was banking that Mad-Eye's pride would assure that a rather intensive investigation was being undertaken on that front. Harry had spent quite some time trying to figure out just who he was going to pin their defeat on, but in the end had decided that the best plan was ignorance. He, after all, wasn't there at Privet Drive so he wouldn't know about it. He'd leave that mystery for the Order to scratch their heads about – Merlin knows that they needed something interesting in their lives, it wasn't as if they actually did anything in the war itself.

With those reasons in mind Harry decided Sirius would be the best bet to call upon. It was more than likely that most of the Order, at least those not in hospital, would be out looking for him, likely believing he had been kidnapped. His story of running away from the sight of two cloaked people after the Ministry threatened him with a snapped wand and expulsion if he even breathed the word magic would give him some credibility for why he ran and didn't fight. He, after all, wasn't told he was being guarded so the Order could take it he saw his minders or the unknown persons who laid the trap and mistook them for enemies. They couldn't fault his logic even if he did looked a little cowardly for it, but in this case even his 'Saving People Thing' couldn't be held against him; the Dursleys were out that night.

Most of the letter would probably just be just written off as him panicking so no worries there and in the end Sirius was the perfect man to bring him in because Harry was going to play on the 'I need to disappear' card; play up his paranoia some, even if it looked out of character for him it was a good alibi. Being an escaped criminal who had yet to get caught was just the perfect thing to solidify his choice of 'savior'. The fact that it got Sirius out of Grimmauld Place and into at least a little bit of an adventure was just a bonus.

His plan ticked all the right boxes in the unspoken 'book of truth', and it gave him plausible deniability for the most part because of the trauma of the whole ordeal - not to mention that it hid his actual activities and Neville's involvement. All in all he'd be right where he wanted to be, and have everybody else getting into their places for _his_ act; not Dumbledore's, but _his_.

Harry sighed and rubbed undamaged his eye tiredly. He was in for a long wait so figured he might as well do something useful with the time he had available to him. Harry's breathing slowed down as he pulled himself into the mindscape he had created when he was a Spectre, and as had happened every other time he had done the exercise in his other Shade he felt the plunge and vertigo that came before he settled into the broken and ruined scene that awaited him. He winced at the sight.

It was a complete and utter wreck. His previous Shades had decided to make themselves right at home in virtually any and every place possible, and what was once an orderly environment was a ruin of its former self. Tonks had been the one to show him how to do this exercise back in those days. She had told him that it helped a lot with her abilities, and when he had started, and eventually mastered it he found that it helped him tremendously. It wasn't Occlumency, but it was in the same branch of mind magics – just a more obscure offshoot. The sole purpose of it was to optimize the speed at which the mind could process things, after all an organized mind processes things faster, allows for enhanced recall, and increased assessment capacity. Harry always imagined Hermione did this stuff naturally, and at the time Tonks had agreed that some people were just naturals at the art. Still, it wasn't really magic as most people thought of magic, but having magic helped bridge, form, and hold the construct, and that allowed the mage to 'sort' memories and emotions, as well as gain an unnatural control over them when they got good enough.

When he very first begun creating the construct in his other Shade he chose a keep landscape styled like Hogwarts. The problem he discovered later was that it took too much magic to hold together, and so he had settled for something less grandiose and more subtle. Harry took note that the fortified stronghold in front of him had great rents in its fortifications, and the bastion walls were half torn down. The gate lay on the ground and appeared to have been torn through by a huge object. Harry guessed that that 'object' was his other Shades making themselves comfortable, and at that moment he really disliked himself. He looked around and scrunched up his nose in distaste when he noticed that the lake was fouled, and the small woodland looked like a mess of thorn-vines instead of the pristine timberland it once was. Random memories floated haphazardly around him and he gave a deep sigh before walking into the battered fortress with a perpetual wince on his features. It only deepened when he saw the destruction to the compound.

A car horn beeped loudly, ringing throughout his dead mindscape, and it reminded him he was still half tuned to the world outside. Harry took a moment listening to the sounds of people walking past his concealed spot and the traffic as autos went about their business completely unaware that there was a trained soldier, killer, and master manipulator hidden in the shadows mere meters from them. "Alright then," he sighed after a moment, "I'd best get this fucking mess sorted out as best I can; I've got an hour to get this back to a vaguely stable condition…"

Harry floated higher to get an overhead view and started to slowly channel his magic to reconstruct his mindscape. Stone walls started to rebuild as pebbles jumped back together into the blocks that they had once been and then settled back in their places. The dirty and putrid waters of the lake slowly purified; going from their rancid green-brown to a glittering blue. Finally Harry concentrated on the forest and watched with pleased eyes as the twisted and warped trees slowly straightened and lush green foliage burst out of the previously-deadened limbs. As he finished cleaning up his landscape he felt his magic wane so stopped for now; the last thing he wanted was to suffer from magical exhaustion. _I really need to get this fucking Horcrux out of me as soon as I can,_ he griped to himself as he slowly allowed himself to land back down on the now-dense and fragrant grass. As he walked about to check his work he found himself, the most part, fairly satisfied with what he had achieved, although it was still a far cry from where it had once been – but there was time for that later; it would only take a couple of hours meditation once his core was recharged, even with the parasitic soul fragment leeching at him.

Harry nodded to himself and returned to the real world to see if Sirius was about yet, and opened his eyes to find a great black grim looking into his green orbs not two inches from his face looking with a sorrowful expression. It took every bit of his self-control not jump at the sight of it right in front of his face. Sirius whined once Harry noticed him sitting there and Harry shook his head. "Later Sirius. This alley has a nice, shady dead end down the back. Got somewhere for us to Apparate to?"

The animagi nodded its shaggy head and Harry stiffly rose to his feet before leading the dog toward the back, checking to make sure no one was looking at them once they reached the brick wall blocking their way. When he turned back Harry saw Sirius standing there in his human form.

He looked healthy, alive, and whole; his entire face was etched with concern for how Harry looked, but the young mage was having a hard time thinking past the sudden burning anger that flamed through is veins. "Merlin's beard Harry what happen…" Harry cut off his concerned words with a right hook that had everything he had to offer behind it.

Harry watched Sirius fall from the punch in satisfaction. He really didn't know how he was going to handle seeing him again, but the anger that burned through him was something he hadn't anticipated. He was ecstatic to see the old Marauder alive and well but the wellspring of his anger overrode his lighter feelings. "Bloody Hell! What was that for?" Sirius yelled from his prone position.

"Your God damn RECKLESSNESS!" Harry near-screamed, "You arrogant, stupid, son of a bitch! You couldn't pay attention for one fucking FIGHT! You just HAD to show off your oh so mediocre dueling skills! You couldn't even be arsed to pay attention for ONE FUCKING DUEL!" Harry stood furious over his fallen Godfather completely locked in his rage, and he found that the stunned look on his face was pissing him off more than anything. His irrational mind just couldn't accept this was not the Sirius that died, and that he hadn't actually done anything wrong... yet.

It only took a few moments for Harry's rage to push him to moving forward to beat the prone man but Sirius pulling his wand stopped him still. "Don't make me Hex you Harry…"

Internally Harry fought a war within himself. His rational mind was fighting frantically to hold him in check while his battle madness tried to drown it out. Both stayed exactly in their positions for several moments until finally Harry deflated. Harry stumbled back a few paces to lean against the wall to breath as deeply as his damaged ribs would allow him; trying to put the pain he was feeling down. Sirius slowly rose from his prone position but kept his wand trained on him the entire time. "Okay, now that you have calmed down, why don't you tell me what the fuck that was about pup?"

Harry's lie took a few moments to manifest as he tried to salvage the situation without seeming too out of it. "Every night since I've been on the run I've had this…nightmare." Harry looked right into his godfathers eyes, making sure to focus on just one; Susan had once told him that that was the key to lying – trying to look into both eyes looked creepy; switching between them looked like you were trying too hard, but one eye… perfect. "It was about this big battle somewhere, and I couldn't see a lot of the people on either side… but I knew it was basically the good guys versus the bad guys. You and me were in the middle; back to back and swarmed. We were doing bloody well but you got cocky and taunted your enemy; goofing off instead of putting them down. In your distraction you got caught with a killing curse… right in front of me… I'm sorry Sirius but when I saw you it all just hit me…"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Sirius lower the wand with a look of compassion on his face; he was hoping he would buy his hastily created pile of soppy bullshit, and apparently it had worked - it had just enough truth and emotion in it to cover his maddening slip. _I really can't afford to fuck up any more like that. I need to get that mindscape running right or I'll be flying off the handle over what everyone perceives as nothing every time I meet someone I use to know._

"I understand Harry," Sirius said quietly, "I've had a few nightmares that have seemed real too. What happened to your face?"

"Muggle gangs, Sirius; took a bunch of wrong turns getting here."

His godfather nodded before holding out his arm. "Take my arm; I'll apparate us to a special place where we can get you healed up. Ron and Hermione are there and I'll bet they'll be happy to see you're okay. Everyone's been worried."

Harry approached and dealt with the sensation of apparition, forcing back a gasp as his ribs were squeezed. Suffice to say that it was not a pleasant experience due because his injuries, but he managed to not splinch himself. He looked around once they arrived and raised an eyebrow to himself even as Sirius explained. "House is protected by Fidelius, you'll need to read this."

Harry nodded without question and faked reading over the slip of parchment. He could already see the house; apparently being secret keeper a few times in prior lives somehow also came back with him, and that brought a whole new range of exciting possibilities into his grasp. Nonetheless Harry nodded, signaling that he had read the note, and waited for a moment before moving toward the dank and depressing house. Sirius led him inside into the Kitchen, and Harry tread carefully to avoid waking Sirius' Mum's Portrait… and the umbrella stand that was the bane of Tonks' very existence.

Sirius entered first but Harry stopped just outside the door after having spotted Kreacher. Just seeing the grumbling House Elf gave him an idea. "Kreacher come here," Harry ordered.

The little elf turned slowly at Harry's voice and slowly did as he asked; a curious look in his eyes. "Master you are not but Kreacher feels like you are…"

Harry dropped down to one knee so they would be eye to eye and spared a glance to the kitchen door; making sure it was closed before speaking again. "Your old master Regulus left you with a job to do - one you have not been able to fulfill. Am I right Kreacher?"

The little Elf's eyes grew into massive glassy orbs as Harry spoke, and he stuttered slightly before managing a sentence. "No one knows of this…"

"I know," Harry interrupted, "and I also know that he wanted you to destroy a locket; a locket that I am betting the _others_ have hidden somewhere in the house. Am I right?" The little elf nodded slowly, and Harry grinned at him. "What if I knew how to destroy it? Would it be worth it to you? To finally finish Master Regulus last Order?"

Kreacher's breathing was rapid and Harry knew he had the elf's full attention. "You know how to destroy it? You will help Kreacher to do so? Why? And what would you want from Old Kreacher?"

"I want you to be a proper House Elf," Harry explained, "I want you to stop taking instruction form Sirius' Mum's painting. You are a good House Elf, Kreacher, but you serve the House of Black – not a painting. You have loyally tried to do your old Master's bidding, but the Locket is powerfully protected. There are only a couple of ways to destroy it and I know a way that is easy. Tomorrow night I will take you to a place where this thing is kept and open the locket for you." He grinned and placed a hand on the wide-eyed elf's shoulder. "Tomorrow night you can finally destroy that foul thing."

The poor elf looked nearly ready to burst into tears; something that Harry found vaguely disturbing; he'd never seen the grizzly old thing display anything but contempt except for a couple of times in his other shades, but in this one he seemed to be especially emotional about the whole thing. "How do you know this? Only Master knew and Kreacher."

"I'm sorry Kreacher, you're not my elf. I can't tell you how I know, just that I do. This is our secret yes?" At the bobbing of the little elf's head Harry smiled and patted him before standing up and leaning back on the table. "So, we have a deal then my friend?"

Kreacher lowered his head, obviously thinking, and Harry was starting to get worried that Sirius would come looking for him before the elf answered, but a moment later the small creature raised his eyes to look at Harry.

"You are going to help Kreacher. Even old masters not help Kreacher. You will help Kreacher to fulfill duty given by beloved Master Regulus. You want Kreacher to be a good House Elf, and Kreacher wants to be good House Elf, but can't because Kreature failed Master Regulus. Kreacher will serve young Harry Potter if Harry Potter really helps Kreacher. I will keep your secrets and clean and cook and serve once more. Thank you Young Master!"

"You are more than welcome Kreacher," Harry grinned before going into the Kitchen sitting down in a chair as the old elf popped away looking happier than he had ever been in this Shade. _Maybe tomorrow I should pick up Dobby and Winky after we take care of the Locket…_ Harry couldn't help but admit that having three House Elves would come in handy. He shuffled around slightly to get as comfortable as he could and waited for the inevitable confrontations that would occur within the next few minutes.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received. You are all appreciated, and I hope you are enjoying this cynical, jaded, independent Harry as much as I did writing it.


	6. Lucy, I'm Home

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 5, Lucy I'm Home**

'_The worst part of finding myself being fifteen again was being fifteen again. Hermione once asked me, what I remember the most about those first couple of days at Grimmauld. I told her other than the sadness, angst, and depression of dealing with people who wore the same face as people who no longer existed, it was the hormones. I'd done McGonagall cross eyed if she'd flipped her skirt at me. I still think I could have put a smile on Poppy's face that even Riddle couldn't have taken off.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry left Kreacher in the hallway before finally walking into the kitchen where Sirius was waiting for him. He didn't realize Kreacher had followed him until after he took the seat Sirius pointed him into.

"Can Kreacher get young Master anything to eat?" he asked Harry respectably.

Harry felt his weariness starting to settle in; all of the fatigue seeming to hit him and once and he closed his eyes; sighing with relief when the burning tiredness gave way to a soothing calmness. With his eyes still closed he didn't see Sirius stunned reaction to what Kreacher had said. "Would it be too much trouble for you to make some Shepherd's Pie?"

"Oh, no young Master, Kreacher can be doing that for you."

It had been a very long time since he had had Kreacher's Shepherd's Pie, and Harry was actually looking forward to it. "Thank you Kreacher."

The little elf bowed to Harry before scurrying off to start cooking, and Harry felt Sirius's silence deepen as sounds of clanking pans and Kreacher scurrying about entered the room. After a few moments Harry started feeling uncomfortable so opened an eye. Sirius was alternating from looking at Kreacher to looking at Harry with his jaw hanging low.

Harry couldn't help it; Sirius looked utterly ridiculous. "You know you might want to talk to Dumbledore if your mouth being open is any kind of invitation," he said casually, but with a smirk teasing on his lips, "I don't bat for that team but I heard the Headmaster might."

Harrys comment finally snapped Sirius out of his stunned stupor. "What did you say to Kreacher Harry? He's never been that nice, not to me anyways."

Harry noted that his godfather didn't comment on his Headmaster comment so let it pass, albeit with a slightly disgruntled expression; he had thought it was quite a nice insult. "I was nice to him. You might want to try being nice sometimes Sirius; having friends pays off."

"Cheeky much pup?"

"Working on it," Harry replied dryly, "how's my progress?"

Sirius smiled while approaching him. "Not bad, needs some work if you want to have style like your Godfather. Of course, you might want to set your goals a little lower," he smirked, "wouldn't want to get your spirits crushed by not achieving such high levels."

Harry grinned feraly back, "Oh, I don't know; can't be that hard to be funnier than a dung beetle. Pretty sure I can manage that."

Sirius' smile got wider at Harry's comeback; obviously pleased to see him joking when he must have been hurting something fierce. He lowered the hood of Harry's cloak to get a better look at his swollen eye; wincing when he saw the damage. "This is beyond me Harry; I'll have to call Madam Pomfrey." Sirius looked down and frowned when he noticed that Harry's shirt looked like it was blood stained in places. "Take off your shirt Harry - looks like you got a few scratches under your shirt."

"I told you already I don't swing that way Sirius: no means no, you pervert."

Still concerned but amused by Harry's quip Sirius replied, "Your virtue is safe pup."

Harry frowned. He really didn't want to deal with this now. "It's nothing."

"You're bleeding Harry. That is not nothing. Come on now don't be a baby."

Harrys frown deepened. He was not looking forward to Sirius's reaction. After a moment he realized that Sirius wasn't going to give this one up and sighed before standing up and doing as he was told. Harry unbuttoned his cloak, draping it over the chair he was using, then pulled his shirt over his head and threw it over top of his other clothes.

As expected Sirius hit the roof. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!"

Harry winced from his scream as well as the sudden thunder of footsteps from the above floor. _Fuck, here we go…_

Harry turned to Sirius keeping as bland a face as he could. "There a reason why you're trying to blow my eardrums Sirius?"

"Merlin Harry what happened to you?"

Harry tried to pass it off. "Just a couple of cuts and bruises; hell Sirius, I've done worse shaving."

A bit disgruntled from the flippant reply Sirius turned from Harry to the floo, presumably to contact Madam Pomfrey, and Harry turned his attention back to Kreacher who was still making his dinner. Already it smelt wonderful. _I wonder if he has the stuff to make Trecle tart? _

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of hurried footsteps nearing and he knew that it wouldn't be long before his friends burst through the door leading to where he was standing. Hermione came through first, and was quickly followed by Ron and Ginny. Harry guessed as much because he still had his back turned to them. At Hermione's gasp he turned to them and took note of the order they were standing in.

Harry smiled at seeing his friends again. Internally, however, he was a mess of conflicting emotions. _This is so much harder than it was with Neville. _"Hey guys. How's your summer been?"

Hermione had her hands covering her mouth and tears in her eyes. Those same eyes tracked all over his exposed body. Harry took a moment to look down noticing the bruising had turned from mere discolored skin to a brutal-looking dark red and black with blue highlights proudly showing the harsh punishment his body had taken. A couple of his ribs looked odd, but since he figured they were fractured it wasn't that much of a surprise – although he had to admit that they looked pretty nasty. Lastly the cuts that the goblin's blades had made ran crisscrossed all over his front, sides and back; brutal, gaping wounds that were even now weeping blood. Goblin cuts had always been notoriously hard to heal naturally.

"Goodness Harry what happened to you?" Hermione's horrified voice asked in a near whisper, ignoring his question.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Got caught by a jealous husband in bed with his wife," Harry quipped. He paused a second longer to drag out the moment before he smirked. "And his sister; wouldn't have caught me at all but I was pretty exhausted by then and didn't make the window in time."

Sirius's uncontrollable barking laughter broke the stunned silence and diverted everyone's attention enough for Harry to put his blood-soaked shirt back on. "That is NOT Funny Harry!" Hermione protested, "Now what happened to you? The Order's been searching everywhere for you and you've been gone for days!"

Harry raised the eyebrow over his undamaged eye. "Who says I'm joking Hermione? To properly satisfy a woman you have to take your time. Get them good and worked up… you know, being a woman yourself; get them excited. And I had_ two_ to please, _and_ I have my reputation to maintain. Be pretty poor form to let 'em down and all. As far as the Order looking for me I was trying to keep it all hidden from her husband. I mean, I didn't know she was bringing her sister-in-law until she was there. By then what could I do? Wouldn't be very nice of me to leave the new girl without some sort of release, now would it?"

Hermione sputtered for a few moments, completely incoherent with shock, fury, outrage, or embarrassment Harry couldn't really tell. Ron stood there looking confused but that could have just been Ron, and Ginny's face bordered on shock at the way he was talking, lust at seeing him underdressed for a moment and horror at his injuries. _I'm gunna have to start drinking form a fucking flask like Mad-Eye again if she keeps eyeing me up. That or fuck the shit out of her, break up and __then__ start drinking from a flask. _Harry did have to admit that sex with Ginny was always pretty good; she was flexible in all the right places, passionate and driven. _Though that could have been the potions coloring my memories..._ He might have to research that later. _Just to be sure._ His only complaint was she wouldn't trim or shave. _Boy was she pissed when I found that charm that took care of that._ Harry almost smiled at the memory of their angry makeup sex. It lasted two days.

Harry decided to have mercy on Hermione and change the direction of his thoughts. "Don't worry about it Hermione; just got in a scrap with some Lexton Reds that were slumming down in Soho after I got lost. Sirius called Madam Pomfrey so I'll be good as new in the morning."

Ron seemed to make up his mind and caught on to Harry's joke. He walked up to the dark haired young man, laughing at how he got Hermione with his humor. "Good one mate, I don't think I've seen anyone get her like that!" Harry smirked, but his humor died quite suddenly when Ron decided that a manly slap on the back was in need to congratulate him.

Pain blossomed through his being and stole his breath quicker than a cat after a mouse, and that wasn't good for Ron, because when Harry was in pain he reacted quickly and violently. Harry gave Ron the same right cross that he gave Sirius earlier, however Ron weighed less than Sirius and so his whopping hit resulted in sending Ron flying toward the wall of the kitchen. It was this scene the Twins Apparated into, and unfortunately two sharp cracking sounds was _not_ something that Harry was overly calm about at that moment. Hearing the sounds of apparition and already keyed into his battlesense from what his body had construed as an attack Harry hooked his foot into the chair he was sitting in a moment ago and half spun his body to send it hurling right at the first Apparating sound he had heard.

George Weasley hadn't even had time to process that he had walked into a battlefield, and so was completely unprepared for the flying chair, or its speed, as Harry added a wandless banisher to his kick. He managed to say, "Thought that was you Har…" before the chair impacted on his chest; shattering and sending him to the floor. Fred, who's reaction time was better, Apparated quickly out of the way.

Harry heard the second 'pop' move and summoned a kitchen knife to his hand wandlessly, ignoring the surprised shrieks from the girls, and when Fred appeared he hurled it directly at the target; once again adding a wandless banisher to it for extra force. The knife just missed impaling Fred's head by inches, and only Harry's exhaustion threw off his aim. He was about to charge at his missed quarry the threat his instincts told him to defeat when Sirius stepped in front of him with his arms wide. "Harry!" He froze, looking intently at Sirius's face as he sucked in deep breaths from the drain on his already low magical reserves. "It's just Fred and George Weasley Harry. You're safe here, okay?"

Fred for his part didn't move a muscle except for his eyes which tracked from the quivering knife Harry imbedded in the stone wall to the battle-ready mage himself. The tense moment broke when Harry allowed his muscles to relax slightly, and everyone let out almost identical sighs of relief.

"Right," Harry nodded to Sirius, still trying to calm down.

The moment was further diffused by Kreacher when the little elf walked over to the table carrying Harry's dinner. "Master Harry, Dinner is ready," he stated as if the kitchen wasn't a warzone just a moment ago, with two of the 'combatants' still on the ground and the still-standing attacker being the one the dinner was meant for. Considering this was the House of Black, this actually might have been an occurrence Kreacher was familiar with.

Harry's relaxed body posture didn't last long once Hermione started talking again. "Harry! What did you do? Why did you hit Ron and knock out George? Why is Kreacher calling you Master? Why…"

Harry took a deep breath before he spoke cutting off Hermione. "Right, that's fucking it - Kreacher I need a room away from the others that not already occupied, with a shitload of locks. Is there one available?"

"Yes Master Harry, there is one on the third floor and it has a bathroom attached as well."

"Perfect," he grunted with a small glare at Hermione, "I'm going to take a shower then. Please make the room ready and I'll take my dinner after my shower."

"Very good Young Master. Can old Kreacher show Master to his room?"

"Yes please do."

Harry ignored Hermione's sputtering about House Elf rights but stopped following Kreacher when he heard Sirius speak up. "Harry, Madam Pomfrey should be here soon. Why don't you wait a moment, alright?"

Harry kept his back to those in the room when he answered. "No, that's not alright. Tell Poppy I'll let her tend to me _after_ my shower. If she can't wait that long she can join me in the shower but its naked witches only, make sure to warn her about that. I could use a Naked Witch in the shower to scrub my back actually; never can quite reach all of it. Let her know I'll return the favor… more too if she's agreeable."

With that last comment Harry left the Kitchen to follow Kreacher to his new room. _Welcome home Harry…_

xxxxxxxx

Sirius watched the retreating form of his Godson's back with confusion. He couldn't help but be deeply impressed with his banter and nerve in the face of his injuries; it wasn't something that just anyone would or could do, and that was the problem – what in Merlin's name had made him able to shrug off such wounds with crude banter? And what worried him greater still was his trigger-happy reactions. The boy was highly strung, that much was blatantly clear, so highly strung he was likely to snap if pushed too hard.

The groan from George's prone form brought him back to everyone's attention. Fred got to him first. "You okay Georgy?"

"Yeah," he grunted groggily, "just remind me to NEVER sneak up on him again; I'll take a bludger to the head by a Slytherin before I try surprising Harry Potter again… I feel like I got hit by the Knight Bus."

Fred laughed at his twin, seeing as he was alright, and helped him back his feet. Once upright he looked over to Ron's still form and looked at the others with a raised eyebrow. "Anyone want to bring us up to speed and tell us why Ron's slobbering on the floor?"

Sirius looked back to the Kitchen door Harry walked through just moments ago and gave a nervous chuckle, "Harry said he got in a few fights with some muggles after he left his relatives place so he was still pretty jumpy I suppose." He turned to Hermione, "You looked shocked when he mentioned the Lexton Reds. You know of them?"

Hermione nodded still reeling from Harry's actions. "They're a street gang that mostly runs around Lexton Street about a half mile from my house. They're fairly aggressive and easy to anger…"

Sirius nodded at the information before he resumed speaking, "Harry's pretty roughed up but taking it well, or was until your brother slapped him on the back – which, if you'd seen his injuries like Ron had, would've sent all of his wounds screaming with pain. Harry didn't like it very much," he said dryly. "I get the feeling he's not telling us everything that happened to him though." Sirius reached up touching the split in the corner of his own lip as he remembered his own encounter with Harry, "Whatever it was has him strung tighter than a goblin's fingers on a gold purse."

Ginny was the first to go to Ron; kneeling down to check on his condition. She snorted loudly once she had seen, and heard, enough. At everyone's questioning expressions look she stood up and flipped her hair behind her. "He's fine… and snoring."

Sirius smiled and the twins laughed, while Hermione was also looking at the door Harry had passed through a moment ago. "What happened to our Harry? He's always been rather cavalier about his own health, but not like this." Hermione's eyes darted over to Ron's still-prone form. "He didn't even knock Ron out last year when he deserved it after the first task when he tried to say he was sorry for abandoning him..." Sirius watched the struggling witch try to find the words that were failing her.

Suddenly the floo activated admitting Madam Pomfrey to their midst. She looked around with a shrewd eye before looking to Sirius when she found Harry notably absent. "Hiding from me is he?"

Remembering what Harry had said to them Sirius replied. "He's taking a shower. Said if you wanted to tend to him to wait." He let out a wide grin, "Oh, and he also said that if you couldn't wait you could join him, but its naked witches only."

The Hogwarts Medi-Witch rolled her eyes, "I'm _sure_ he did Sirius; forgive me if I don't believe that Mister Potter would say such a thing. Where is he?"

He couldn't help the smile that grew on his face at her disbelief, "Third Floor. Not sure which room but its most likely the one with the water running."

With a humph she marched through the door. Sirius by this point had a wide smile on his face.

"Ten Galleons Harry makes good his comments," he said with his smile growing larger, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I'll take that bet."

Fred and George looked at each other but shook their heads at Sirius; they'd learned their lesson already: never bet against the Boy-Who-Lived.

Hermione waited in the silence that followed nibbling her lip with her teeth nervously while the others stood looking at the ceiling just waiting. It didn't take long before they all heard the Medi-Witch scream, "Mr. POTTER!" followed by a set of quickly retreating footsteps.

Not a second later it was followed by Harry's voice booming, "I told Sirius it was NAKED WITCHES ONLY!"

Fred and George broke into hysterical laughter while Sirius held his hand out smugly to the shocked and blushing Ginny Weasley.

xxxxxxxx

Harry walked out of the bathroom with his towel draped around his waist. The hot water had helped tremendously in his efforts to ease his aching muscles. He looked blurrily about the room and grinned when he saw Madam Pomfrey's flushed face awaiting him. A small table was set up with his dinner under heating charms in the corner. It smelled delicious.

"My offer still stands Poppy," Harry stated while walking further into the room.

"Mr. Potter I am old enough to be your Mother," the stern witch replied.

Harry smiled cheekily and held up a knowledgeable finger, "Ah, but not old enough to be my Grandmother. I got standards too you know."

"Mr. Potter!" she sputtered indignantly, and Harry just smiled as he made his way over to the bed to sit for his exam.

Taking out her wand she moved over to him while running a diagnostic charm over his body, her blush still prominent on her features. "At least you still have your sense of humor."

He sat as still as he could knowing if he moved too much it would ruin the spell and this whole thing would just take longer. He couldn't stop his winning smile from spreading over his lips however. "It's going to take more than a few scratches to knock that out of me."

She stood over him for some time checking and rechecking her findings. After a while she sighed and pulled back from him and gave him her diagnosis. "Your magical core is very, very weak; I'd say you are about one spell away from Magical Exhaustion. I can see a lot of signs that you have been subconsciously pulling your magic into your limbs, which is very reckless and very dangerous. You have five fractured ribs and two broken ones; a few minor abrasions; and a host of severe bruising. You are greatly malnourished and have signs of dehydration. I can see you tried to rectify that within the last 24 hours but the damage is still there."

Madam Pomfrey moved over to her medical bag to pull out several potion vials. "After you eat I want to you take these potions." Harry raised an eye brow at the amount she placed down and she pointed each one out along with an explanation. "This is a nutrient and hydration potion which should help you with the latter issues by the morning; and two vials of Bone Knit which will help your ribs once I have set them. There really isn't much we can do for your exhaustion, but a good night's sleep will do wonders, so Dreamless Sleep for you as well. I've left you a couple of pain relief potions as well, but use them in moderation and responsibly."

She turned back to Harry looking concerned at what she saw. "I am… disturbed by these scars on your body Mr. Potter. I do not remember them being there the last time I examined you thoroughly."

Harry shrugged but lowered his eyes, "I think my magic did it a couple of days ago…" he confessed. Unlike some people the medi-which had always been honest with him. Not to mention that at the end of each summer she always supplied him with potions to get back some of the body mass he lost during his stay at Durskaban.

Several moments passed before she started talking again, but she had a frown marring her brow. "I see. Well, I have added several jars of Bruise be Gone which should alleviate the most outstanding of them by morning but you should continue to use it nightly for a few days. Here are several vials of your special Blood Replenishing Potion because, sadly, you have lost too much to regenerate without your body suffering from doing it naturally. You are fortunate I brew them fresh each quarter; I've never before seen a student so prone to life-threating idiocy as you Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled appreciatively, "I love you too Madam Pomfrey."

His smile got wider when she sniffed at his comment. They were the only ones that knew his blood type had uniquely changed during the whole Chamber of Secrets incident. Regular blood potions almost killed him, as they found out first time he took one, and only her skill and knowledge saved his life. "I also happen to have a few jars of scar softener which would…"

"That's okay Madam; I won't need it."

"Now Mr. Potter there is no reason for you to be so marred…"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Each one of these carries a story. I don't think I suffer wounds so lightly as to be unmindful of them." Harry explained while fingering one that looked suspiciously like teeth-marks on his shoulder. Of all of his scars that one had special meaning over the rest.

"If you say so Mr. Potter… now I am going to magically suture your wounds closed, and then set your broken bones." She looked down at Harry raising an eyebrow. "This will hurt I'm afraid."

Harry nodded his head while trying not to tense as she traced her wand over his cuts. It wasn't so bad until she set his ribs. His entire body locked up as muscles screamed in protest to the sudden spike of pain that shot through him. Harry clenched his teeth and waited for it to pass before trying to make his body relax. "I am sad to say that you handled that well - better than most men I have done that for in the past. I truly wish you were not so accustomed to pain."

"You and me both Madam," he grated out through his teeth.

She gave him a few moments to acclimatize to the pain and give her his attention again. "I want you to check in with me on September First, Mr. Potter so I can check on your healing. No magic, no fighting, and no strenuous exercise until then. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded but his reply was cut off by the door opening. Harry almost groaned at the sight of the elderly Headmaster walking in unannounced and uninvited. Seeing his eyes travel over his half-naked form elicited a shiver of unease from him as Neville's words came back to him about the supposed orientation of the Headmaster.

Dressed in only a towel, it wasn't so funny anymore.

"Ahh, Madam Pomfrey, how is our wayward charge?"

"Mr. Potter will make a full recovery if he follows my instructions. If not I will have no choice but to confine him to the Infirmary where I will supervise his recovery myself."

Harry nodded but gave the Medi-Witch a saucy wink to remind her of his earlier offer. "Noted Ma'am." After she blushed at his innuendo he turned to the Headmaster.

` "How can I help you Headmaster? As you can see I've had a long couple of days, my dinner is getting cold, and I am under orders to sleep well; a feat which will prove notoriously difficult considering the lack of naked witches in my bed. Can we get to the point quickly please?"

Harry watched Dumbledore raise an eyebrow at his bluntness, "Yes I see that… I would like to know how you came to leave your relatives house."

Harry met the Headmasters gaze and replied in a bored tone. "I climbed out the window, jumped most of the way to the ground, and ran."

"Where did you go?"

"East."

"That is not a very good answer Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said with a frown, and Harry rolled his eyes mentally.

"It's the only one I have Headmaster. I was rather panicked at the time and didn't really have any place in mind; just one that didn't have people who I didn't know stalking around it."

Both of them were silent for a bit, until Dumbledore asked, "Were you aware that someone managed to infiltrate the wards around your house Harry?"

"You may call me Mr. Potter, Headmaster; it's respectful since I have never given you permission to use my first name nor have I ever heard you call anyone else by their first name unless it was a staff member." This elicited a frown from the old man, and Harry smirked slightly. "And the answer is that no, I didn't, because I was running for my life. East remember? Though I am surprised to know I even had wards around Privet drive. Can't say as I am surprised by the fact someone did break in to the house, but I know that I feel better about bolting now than I did before I knew."

"Your attitude is not helping our situation Harry. I was very shocked to hear you assaulted Mr. Weasley…"

Harry raised his hand to silence the elder wizard. At this point Harry had had enough. "Headmaster I'm tired, you refuse to respect my wishes and refer to me as Mister Potter, and school is out until September 1st. Your interrogation is not appreciated, and neither is your guilt trip. You have no authority over me during the summer months, and as I mentioned before: I had a bad couple of days. Now, I'm going to ask you to leave so I can finally eat my dinner and go to sleep for the first time since I left Privet Drive. If I'm lucky I will at least _dream_ of naked witches in my bed. Any further questions, badgering, or disappointment that you wish to express will have to wait until tomorrow. Good night Headmaster."

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes disappeared at Harry's frank and rather insulting dismissal. He opened his mouth but never got a single syllable out because at that moment Kreacher appeared looking none too happy. "Master Harry as asked you to leave Headmaster."

Madam Pomfrey had already moved towards the door but stopped to watch this play out. "Now see here…" the white-haired wizard blustered, but Kreacher was having none of it.

"At Hogwarts your will is to be respected, Headmaster, but this is the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and here it's the Black's will that rules. Master Harry has asked you to leave, and leave you will."

Harry smiled at the little elf as he advanced on Dumbledore menacingly. "I'd do what he asked Headmaster; House Elves are scary. Just ask Lucius Malfoy what Dobby did to him."

Shocked that the elf would overtly threaten him Dumbledore took several steps back, and he had stepped over the doorsill before he even realized it. Harry gave him a jaunty wave goodbye as Kreacher slammed the door in his face.

"Ahhh, _finally_ I can eat my dinner…" Harry murmured with a happy grin; relived that was over with.

Just outside the door Dumbledore stood completely stunned at what had just happened. He took out his wand and cast a charm at the door to get it to open, but to no avail which baffled him even more. He didn't come out of his stupor until he heard the witch next to him speak.

"I often warned you that he was going to rebel one day Albus; there's only so much any young man can take before they've had enough, and I know better than most he's taken more than his fair share."

Dumbledore sighed while visibly deflating. "Yes, perhaps your right." _I have already risked enough being in the same room as him. I wonder, is it simple teenage rebellion or are we already too late to save him from Voldemort?_ _Maybe I should get Severus to begin teaching Harry Occlumency sooner rather than later; If nothing else this will help us know if we are already too late._

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated, A review who has their pms disable asked me basically why I was posting this when 2 of the stories in this series are incomplete. The answer is, there are complete.

The Fallen General was so badly written I've had a hard time fixing it. It was my first story and it did not show itself well. Its completed, no question, just under rewrite. When I get some chapters done, I'll start posting it again as I fix it.

The Marauders Vanguard is complete, but the next 10 or so chapters needed a lot of TLC. When I wrote them I had a lot of things going on and parts read like gibberish. LOL. Again, I will post them when I can get the time to fix it. I know people are waiting for both and I will make the effort.

Master of Assassins is complete, and posted. I've though thought about fixing it, I kind of got enough on my plate as it is.

As for any of the other shades not posted, I have the outlines, what happens, and everything for them, just have never gotten around to doing anything with them. The reader asked me, how can any new reader expect to follow the story? I like to believe I have been very descriptive with background on all the various shades and how they apply to this story when it is relevant to that scene. If not, someone give me a shout an I will make repairs. All the other stories are pretty much stand alones, or can be taken that way with the only real hitches coming at the end. In the end of each shade, Harry dies, gets close to death, or something. They hang and point to this story. This story does point to those, but it can also stand alone as well. Which was the whole point of doing this huge mess in the first place, Time Travel, with a serious twist.

To readers of any of my other non shade related stories, I have not forgotten them, I am working on them, and new chapters will come out when I compete them and get them beta'd. Keep the critic, whether good or bad about the story itself, coming. I am looking forward to hearing from you all.

**Shout Out!** A great story to read if any are interested, is Paging Dr Bell, by zArkham. Dude, Please UPDATE! I'm dyin here!


	7. This Will Not End Well

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 6, This Will Not End Well**

'_They were not ready for who I had become. They just had to accept it. Just like I did.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry stirred slowly from his dreamless slumber. He felt around his bed noticing he was alone and slowly cracked an eye as last evening events slowly trickled through his mind; cracking through his pre-dawn haze. He slowly blinked away the last of his sleep before beginning the arduous task of unraveling himself from the massive comforter he'd tangled himself up in during the night. He took care of his usual morning rituals in the bathroom before moving back into his bedroom to find a light breakfast waiting for him when he returned.

"Kreacher," Harry called, and a second later the little house elf appeared next to him with a soft crack.

"How can I help you today young Master?"

"I wanted to thank you for breakfast. Also, is there any whiskey in the house?"

"Of course; the House of Black is very well stocked with all manner of spirits: whiskey, bourbon, wine, brandy, ale, and beer from a wide variety of Pureblood brewers and distillers. Most of it is quite old as the house has seen no use for the last thirteen years."

Harry nodded. "I doubt there are any Half-blood or Muggleborn breweries or distilleries are there?" At Kreacher's negative response Harry sighed. _That is going to change._ "Very well, if you would please stock the cellar with an appropriate section of all those you listed a moment ago from Muggle vendors I would appreciate it. I would like the cellar filled to capacity if you please. How are the pantry and kitchen supplies?"

Harry poured himself a glass of orange juice and began to sample the fruits Kreacher had brought him. "Currently we are well stocked but not as stocked as I believe you would like. Kreacher can see Master Harry is going to want the House to be well run and ready for any social situation. With this in mind Kreacher thinks Master would like the kitchen stocked a lot better than it currently is."

"Very good Kreacher; you are correct. I want you to spend the day taking care of those things. If you need funds see Account Manager Undar and give him this letter." He felt pretty good about writing Harry nodded at him when he tucked the letter into his tea towel. "He will get you the required funds you will need. Get some rest Kreacher, because we are going to have a long night. While we're gone I might pick up two more elves, but we'll discuss the running of the Houses of Potter and Black later if they join us."

Harry took a bite from the oats in the bowl and almost moaned in ecstasy. When he put his mind to it Kreacher was an excellent cook. "Kreacher understands Master Harry and will stock the house as you wish. If Kreacher may ask, when will we be leaving tonight?"

"Later; after everyone has gone to sleep," Harry immediately replied.

Kreacher bowed again to him but Harry stopped him. "Could you bring me a bottle of Whiskey to the Library please?"

It was still pretty early in the morning when Kreacher left, and with everyone being pretty late sleepers Harry didn't think anyone would catch him going through the library. Harry walked over and opened the closet, frowning at the selection of dressing robes he saw. Shrugging because he doubted anyone would see him in something so ridiculous he grabbed one of the red ones and threw it over himself and covering his nakedness. He supposed he should have been more self-conscious about being starkers in front of the little elf but he really couldn't be arsed.

Harry grabbed his pack of Luckies and lit one from the cheap bic his helpful over-eighteen mark got for him; taking that first morning drag and sighing out a cloud of smoke, enjoying it before making for the library down the hall.

He allowed his mind to drift while he perused the stacks. His life had definitely changed, that was for sure. One of the only real complaints he had about his new existence, other than being here in the first place, was that a lot of his old habits, and not all of them good, had carried over to this one. He looked down at the fag held in his hand and gave a small chuckle before taking another drag. Smoking was a prime example; he had taken to smoking on occasion in a few of his Shades to help calm his nerves. He was very grateful for the fact that even though it's supposed to be bad for you, as a Wizard it was not as bad as for the Muggles. Being magical gave him all kinds of nifty immunities and filters to minor toxins, and then of course there were potions that would clean him out or repair the damage within days, so smoking was not as bad as it could have been. That was just one of his new/old habits. As Harry blew out a cloud of smoke from his lungs he idly scanned the titles on the stack he was walking along.

He poured himself a tumbler of the liquor that Kreacher had left for him before he started moving down the next isle. Harry enjoyed the smooth taste as he swallowed it down. Its numbing effects took place immediately as well as took the edge off his taught nerves. He let out a satisfied sigh before going back to his searching. He wasn't looking for anything specific, just looking to kill time; it would be tomorrow after his trial that he could take the next couple of steps in his grand plan.

In order to fight the war that was coming, either through indirect or direct action, he needed certain things; certain people; and certain events to take place. Aside from those things there were tools from his prior Shades that no longer existed in this one, and he wanted to get them back. Harry figured he could get most of them done once he got the resources by September, October at the latest. With this line of thinking Harry returned to the table Kreacher had set up for him and found that the little elf had anticipated his needs. A scroll of blank parchment was waiting for him along with several vials of ink and a few quills.

Harry smiled in appreciation. Hermione had one thing right when it came to House Elves; treat them right and they responded with the best service possible. If he accomplished nothing else, he had at least managed help Kreacher heal. The poor elf had been torturing himself over and over for years about not being able to fulfill Regulus Black's last wish. He was a hero in Harry's mind; a bent, demented hero, but a hero none the less. Not that Harry had any right to pass judgment - he was just as fucked up as Kreacher, if not more so. Later tonight Kreacher would get his heart's desire, and all it required was a quick trip to Hogwarts.

Harry made himself comfortable in the chair and after taking the quill in his hand he started writing out what he would need to recreate or reacquire. After some time struggling with half remembered equations Harry added a pensive to his list as well as a book that matched the same specifications as the Book of Deeds, his family history, and spell book. _Maybe I can finally get past my 'past' if I write it all down. _He remembered several of his therapy sessions from prior lives where he had sought or was forced to seek help. It did help somewhat back then to get past some of the horrible things that had happened to him, so it bore looking into during this Shade; he didn't want to be fucked up this time around, or at least wanted to be _less_ fucked up than all the other times.

Harry had just added to the list that he needed to see if anyone picked up his stuff from the Dursleys when he heard a gasp to the side of him. Surprised, and unaware he had an audience, he turned to look and found Hermione watching him. At seeing her blush, and where her eyes were deadlocked, he looked down and noticed that the front of his dressing robe had come loose. To spare her any further embarrassment he quickly covered his near-nakedness.

"Heh, sorry about that; didn't expect anyone up at this hour."

"Harry since when do you smoke or drink?" She immediately demanded. He easily noted she was passing over the sight she had just been presented. He immediately decided to let it pass as well. By the burning rose along her upper cheek bones he could tell she was trying to ignore it. Harry did raise an eyebrow and frowned at her tone however thinking to himself that this will not end well."If it bothers you I'll put it out. As for the whiskey, if you want a shot all you had to do was ask."

Hermione sputtered, "That is not the point Harry. What happened to you?"

Harry seriously debated telling her the truth. He leaned back in his chair but remained silent for the moment. Instead he watched her standing before him; the huge blush across her cheeks from embarrassment and anger; her foot tapping the time-old tune of disapproval, and her hands on her hips. As if he needed more than just her frown to tell him she was upset. _I'd forgotten how sexy she looked when she bit her lip in frustration like that. I wonder if she still purrs after sex…_

Aside from that random thought, and the memory of the only time in any of his lives he actually gained that knowledge, Harry's thoughts walked a much more different vein of thought.

His darker side, the person he never consciously wanted to be, was trying to get him to just blow Hermione off and move on with his life. It was her, after all, that was the cause of a lot of his pain in prior existences. Most of that pain revolving around unrequited love on his part; feelings of paranoia that she really was just like everyone else and only wanted to be his friend because of his fame and wealth; or mostly the fact that it was HER that kept sending him back. That however was a hard feeling from this Shade. He was suspicious that if he became friends with her again it was likely he'd be sent back… again; and this vicious cycle would just continue on. The best thing to do, according to this side of him, was to just kill her now to make sure this whole mess could not be repeated again. Failing that the next best option was to not be her friend after destroying her research and just move on with the new him; again for similar reasons.

Now the middle ground side, or as Harry thought of him, the Grey Harry, half agreed and disagreed - no shock there really. He realized that she could be a valuable tool in his plans; she was smart, easy going, and once she became loyal, never betrayed him for any reason. It was possible to get her to take an oath to never send him back again, something binding maybe, and that could take care of that. Besides, he could always kill her later or break off his friendship later if it came down to it. As for the possible love interest aspects, here Harry was twisted a bit. He didn't know who 'this' Hermione was. He knew she was not the person who sent him back. Well, she was, but she wasn't. _Stupid Time travel. This garbage seriously messes with a bloke's head._

Of course his light side, the ever-forgiving, loyal, walk-all-over-me-Harry had no problems with Hermione. He understood perfectly why she sent him back each time and had already forgiven her. He reasoned that if he had the means to create such a spell, or had even thought about it, he probably would have done the same for her. She had the creative means, knowledge, and drive to do it, while Harry never did. He really couldn't fault her for her actions, as he would have been just as guilty of the same push-comes-to-shove reaction had he been in her shoes. Besides, this was Hermione of all people; she was the one constant in all his lives; always there; always giving and never taking - really, he could not do better for a friend than her.

As for her causing all his pain, he was just at fault as she was really. Okay, maybe not as much, but he had no experience with love. It took him AGES to understand what he was feeling, and even then he'd had to research it. After he had an idea what it was he had to rationalize it, and then he was always too late before he could get his courage up to talk to her about it. Judging by her own childhood, at least from what little he knew from Jake and Ellen, he imagined that, like him, she had some trust issues. The only time in any lives he managed to have anything with her at all was during his second round after Ron left them while they were hunting Horacruxes. They had a very emotional and physical relationship but in the end, she chose Ron and years down the road he had to dose himself with love potion just to function. It really didn't end well.

Around and around in circles it went in his mind until Hermione had finally had enough of his silence and half yelled, "WELL?"

Harry blinked. "Huh? Sorry, spaced out there for a minute. What was the question again?"

If anything the redness in her face got worse. In a calm tone of voice that let him know just how far he had pushed her she asked him again, "What happened to you Harry? You are smoking, drinking, cursing, walking around half starkers, and beating up your friends! I know your upset with us over not telling you anything but you have to understand we didn't have a choice! Dumbledore made us promise…"

Harry interrupted her with a sharp, "And if he made you promise to jump off a cliff?" He took a long drag on his cigarette while he watched her right eye twitch. _She's close to full time rant mode now. That or the spells will start flying. Glad this place is under Fidelius._

"Don't be ridiculous Harry, he wouldn't ask us to do that," she rebuked with a huff.

Harry nodded. _Your names not Harry Potter either. That and it depends on if it's for the Greater Good or not._ "Maybe, maybe not. Noticed that you didn't answer the question. That is not very like you Ms. Granger, you are always the first to answer, and for as long as I've known you have never failed to do so."

"He said the letters could have been intercepted!"

"Even by Royal Mail?"

"It's possible they could have used a spell to…"

Harry nodded again. "And charmed parchment that you have to know the password for?"

"Can still be broken…"

"Like Snape did the Map? I mean, two of the four Marauders live in this house now," the dark haired teen pointed out.

"Well, it could happen…"

Harry threw another point. "And hand delivery by the guards that watched my house?"

Hermione blinked at his knowledge, "They could have been intercepted…"

"Somehow by the time they walked out of this house and point to point apparated from here to there, right?"

"No one was supposed to know they were there so as not to draw suspicion.  
Besides, they didn't always…"

"Could have invisibly put the letter through the mail slot. Aside from that they would have come by had you asked them to do so."

"STOP IT HARRY!" Hermione yelled at him in near-tears. "Dumbledore thought it was best…"

"I see." Harry observed. And he really did. Her respect and absolute faith in authority figures was something he was not going to shake this morning. _If ever…_

Both of them were silent for quite some time. She broke the silence first, as he knew she would. "I get your angry with us Harry but that did not excuse knocking out Ron or attacking George."

"I was in pain Hermione. When he slapped me on the back I just reacted. Same with George I just reacted to the sounds of apparition. I've had a real interesting couple of days." _Understatement but there you go…_

"Harry I've known you for four years now and I have never seen you react that way." Hermione firmly stated.

Harry sighed. He was getting a headache from the interrogation. He poured himself three fingers of his drink and leaned back in his chair after taking a sip of it. He could feel his muscles begin to relax almost immediately. "I was in _a lot_ of pain. If it will make you feel better I'll tell him I'm sorry. I'll tell him that I'm sorry he can't take a punch. That I'm sorry he's an insensitive twat that finally got his arse handed to him by the one he wronged…"

Finally fed up with his remarks she aggressively stalked toward his table. "If you don't stop drinking or smoking this instant I am going to tell Ms. Weasley!"

"Free will and choice Hermione; you do what you need to do." Emphasizing his point Harry kicked most of the tumbler he was drinking from back in one gulp and took a long drag on the burning fag in his hand.

This did not go well with Hermione who stormed out of the library in a rage. Harry watched her with sad eyes. _No, that did not end well at all…_

Harry rolled up the scroll he was working on. Ever vigilant Kreature popped in and after giving it to Kreacher to hide with instructions to make sure no one could find it Harry gathered the other things on his table. In his mind's eye he could see Hermione ranting to Molly. So Harry went to his room to get dressed while Hermione called in the cavalry. Hermione looking at his bits didn't bother him, but Ms. Weasley doing so did. The idea was just wrong on so many levels. He had no sooner gotten back to the Library and poured another drink and lit a second smoke when the door opened admitting not only Molly Weasley in full temper but Sirius, Dumbledore, and Hermione wearing a satisfied smirk on her face. _Can this day get ANY fucking worse… _It wasn't even eight in the morning yet. Still, part of him was impressed. Calvary to the rescue indeed.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Ms. Weasley screamed.

Harry winced; her shriek went right into the deepest recess of his skull. Harry noted Sirius had a carefully constructed neutral expression on his face but Dumbledore's was very disproving.

Harry looked up from his seat not even removing his feet from their propped up position. "Morning Ms. Weasley." Harry stated neutrally while he nodded at Dumbledore but he held up the bottle to Sirius. "You want dealt in Sirius?"

"Never a dull moment with you, eh, Harry?"

"I'd love a dull moment once in a while," Harry said with a wry smile, faking a wistful voice he continued, "I've heard they're uneventful. Is it true?"

Sirius shook his head but Harry thought he saw his godfathers lip twitch. Harry didn't have any problems showing his smirk as he leaned back in his chair to once again offer the bottle.

"No thanks pup. I think I'll pass this time."

"Pussy," he shot at his godfather with a Marauder-worthy grin while placing the bottle on the table.

His actions and language did not sit well with the Weasley Matriarch. "Just what do you think you are doing young man?"

"Sitting." He replied promptly.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Sirius's eyes grow a little wider at his cheek. "Don't you be shirty with me Harry Potter; you know exactly what I mean. Now answer the question!"

"I was relaxing until you lot came in. Or at least I was trying to."

She grabbed up his bottle and held it up as if it was damning evidence. Considering they thought he was a 15 year old kid, it actually kind of was.

"You are NOT old enough to be drinking!"

"Hey, get your own bottle!" Harry leaned forward to take it back when she shot off at him again.

"OR SMOKING!" with her wand she summoned his pack. Harry had to actually fight the urge to summon it back wandlessly. He did however keep a tighter grip on buring fag and glass already in his hands in case she decided she wanted those too.

Dumbledore kept his eyes averted from Harry's but spoke into the tense situation. "I have to say I am very disappointed in you Harry; I had thought you were more mature than to act in these disrespectful ways."

"You assume I give a damn. That's cute," Harry snarked. "Besides, I am what you made me, Albus." Harry stated quietly yet firmly. "Remember that when you fall asleep at night. I know I do." Harry replied before turning to Ms. Weasley. "As for you, you are not my mother. As everyone is so fond of pointing out every summer by sending me to the Dursleys, my parents are dead. Dead, buried, and dust by now. I like you Ms. Weasley but that does not give you the right to walk in here and treat me like a child in a home that isn't even yours."

"Harry you can't walk around doing adult things! You're fifteen and not old enough!"

Harry's grip on the glass in his hand tightened even more as his eyes darkened into jade chips of ice. Of those in the room, only two of them had ever heard such cold blooded malice before, and it was not from the lips of the young man before them. It was from You-Know-Who. "At eleven I was old enough to kill a thirty year old man and bounce Voldemort's Spiritual arse out of Hogwarts. At twelve I was old enough to kill a sixty foot long Basilisk, with a sword mind you, and save YOUR DAUGHTERES LIFE! This time killing Voldemort's memory."

Ms. Weasley flinched at his comment, but Harry was nowhere near done with his enraged rant. "At thirteen I was old enough to face a changed werewolf in full rage and over a hundred dementors! Oh," he laughed humorlessly, "and let's not forget last year when, at Fourteen, I was old enough to fight a Dragon, Merfolk - where I saved another of your children's lives, _and_ get kidnapped by Voldemort! There I watched Cedric die and was chained to a statue while forced to be the main ingredient that brings that son of a bitch back! And let's not mention the several Cruciatus curses I took in front a crowd of Death Eaters laughing at me, and all this before I managed to duel Voldemort to a draw and escape. Escape, mind you, back to Hogwarts; the safest place in the magical world… and into the hands of a _fucking_ Death Eater who damn near killed me and would have if he hadn't been so obsessed with Voldemort's reactions instead of taking care of business!"

He took a huge draw of his whiskey and stared at the red-haired woman in front of him; his eyes alight with an inner fire. Several incarnations of injustice burned fiercely within him as he vented. "So you tell me, Ms. Weasley, if I am old enough to do that, why the fuck are you telling me I am too young to smoke or drink?"

Harry watched enraged while Ms. Weasley sputtered incoherently. Dumbledore just looked old and saddened at Harry speech. Harry though, still wasn't finished; several Shades of angst burned within him to get this all out, and out it was going to go whether he wanted them it too or not. "Do you know what I really want? I want a year where my life isn't threated in some fashion. This year's already fucked but I'm hoping to go for a clean slate once Hogwarts starts. I want to get into a few skirts and find out if the carpet really does match the drapes. This is O.W.L year so I've already got enough on my plate as it is! I want to be reckless and irresponsible in a way that DOESEN'T damn near kill my arse! If that involves a little drinking and a few cigarettes I don't see the God damn problem! I think I've earned a bit of credit here all things considered don't you?"

Harry threw the glass still half full of liquor on to the table not caring if it shattered or not. "Fuck, you people know how to kill a buzz," he stated to them before leaving three adults and one teen completely stunned as he stormed to his room.

It was well past lunch before Harry heard the knock on the door to his room. He looked up from the scroll he was working on frowning. Without being asked Harry noted Kreacher pop in remove the scroll and pop out. The wee critter was really starting to grow on Harry.

He rose from his chair and opened the door just a second after hearing another echoing knock.

"Strange, I say, my brother!"

"Yes, indeed; it is, my brother."

"I would have expected a wheelbarrow."

"Or another wheeled contraption. Like an auto."

"Maybe levitation?"

"I would have wagered a Feather light charm at the least."

"Still, I would believe the size might have been a dead giveaway."

Harry gaped at the intruders, who had given him a look over and that strange greeting.

"What are you tossers going on about?" he asked, incredulously.

"Your _bollocks_, of course," the left twin intoned, just to have the sentence completed by his brother to his right.

"We were expecting you to carry those enormous, probably metallic, examples of manliness in a wheelbarrow, at the very least. Maybe he has a board stuck to his back to keep him upright?"

Harry reared back his head and laughed. It figured the twins would have found the situation funny. He waved them in before he closed the door.

"Hey, sorry about the chair thing mate; I was pretty high strung last night."

George waved him off. "I'd be too if I had to walk around with all that weight. That's why we were curious how you carted those things around. No worries Harry. I've taken worse testing out our new product line. Just a prank that went wrong on our end."

Harry nodded and let the matter drop. He was pretty thankful George was so easy going about that incident. "Cheers."

George smiled, "Cheers Harry."

As they all took the seats Harry leaned forward with an amused look on his face. "I take it Mrs. Weasley's been on a rampage since this morning then?"

"Oh, mum is fuming; she is absolutely seething at your performance. She keeps on shouting about 'no respect at all,' and she 'didn't raise you like that.' She even referred to us as being better mannered." Fred told them, to which George added, "Which made us seek you out to improve our education."

"That's yet another reason mum is angry at you. She's absolutely convinced that unless your attitude is 'nipped in the bud' then you are going to be a bad influence on anyone who you come in contact with. Could you please show us how you do that?" George grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry, eliciting a warm chuckle from the youth. "We would love to be able to influence near strangers from afar."

Harry smiled at their antics before picking up his pack of cigarettes and lighting one. After grabbing the full bottle of liquor from the shelf behind him he turned back to his table companions. He wasn't sure how or where Kreacher got the cigarettes but he wasn't going to ask questions to get answers he was most likely not going to like. He offered the bottle to the twins while also showing a deck of cards in his other hand. "I don't suppose you guys know how to play poker?" A card game was exactly what he needed after this morning's debacle. Besides, in his fourth shade it always worked to unwind him after a job and he could use a couple of laughs.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.

Shout Out! A great story to read if any are interested, is Rocking the Boat by DerLaCroix. 


	8. A Good Nights Work

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 7, A Good Nights Work**

'_Not even I was prepared for just how much the Goblins or House Elves would be so influential in the war. Even with all my knowledge I never would have been as prepared for what was coming if not for them. Is it any wonder after the war Rakip Tomak damn near led the next Goblin Rebellion so the Outcasts would finally have equal rights in our world? Was anyone really all that surprised when Dobby and I _did_ led the House Elf Rebellion in 2010? I don't think anyone will forget the night Dobby stormed the Ministry dressed like Leonidas with three hundred at his back. In retrospect, I really shouldn't have let him watch so much T.V.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

With a soft and near-silent 'crack' that only a house-elf could manage Harry appeared in Diagon Alley not far from the white marble edifice that was the bank of Gringotts. He felt Kreacher let go his hand, and Harry strode forward purposely with the little elf silently following him.

The twins had managed to keep him laughing for several hours before they declared that they had taken enough of his money and were starting to feel bad. Harry though assured them that he had plenty to lose and not to worry. Harry jokingly told them he always lost at cards. He really thought they didn't want to get caught pissed around their mum. Even leaving early, they had a slight wobble to their movements. Thankfully after the morning debacle no one wanted anything to do with him and he managed to get his shopping list done as well as finish a few blue prints for things he was going to need later.

Harry decided the first stop of the night was going to be here at Gringotts to see how much Undar managed to get done on the list of things he left for him to do. Almost all of it was acquisition of various items he thought of during their last meeting, but there were a few purchases he needed sooner rather than later; notably the wand he'd tasked the Goblin to find for him. Harry really didn't feel comfortable with raiding Hogwarts without one, and his current wand was still under the Trace. If Undar hadn't gotten it yet, Harry knew he would have to take the risk of raiding Hogwarts without it.

Harry mounted the great steps, noticing that after-hours when the doors to the bank was closed, as they usually were at two in the morning, the door guard increased from two to ten goblins. As he approached them all stood battle ready and the contingent's leader stood weaponless at the front.

"Human, your business will wait…" he stopped talking as soon as Harry stood before him with his face clearly visible from the great burning torches that rested on either side of the massive doors. "Rakip Tomak, my apologies I was not informed you had a meeting this late."

Harry ignored the whispers of the other goblins. **"Kreskalt, May the blood spilt in the battlefield be of the foe ignorant enough to have thought to cross his blade with yours."** Harry stated in greeting while clasping his fist over his left breast.

The goblin before him straightened up at having been addressed respectfully with recognition of his rank, and in his own language. He immediately mirrored Harry's posture. **"Rakip Tomak, May the Bone be sure and the Blade be True, and your enemies crushed from the fear of your coming."**

Harry was pretty sure he caught most of that. "My apologies for coming so late and for switching to English; I am afraid my knowledge of your language is pretty limited."

"Not at all," grinned the Goblin, "even your current knowledge is impressive to us. What brings Rakip Tomak to our halls this night?"

"I have need to speak to Manager Undar of the House of Krill."

The goblin guard nodded, and with a bark and a wave of his hand he sent one of his people to open the door. "Kredilc will take you while Cronish will wake Manager Undar."

Harry thanked him while following the goblin Kredilc. It didn't take long before he was sitting in Undar's office waiting, and a few seconds after he had sat down the goblin in question walked in through a side door.

"Most unusual Lord Potter, at such an hour? Will most of our meetings be at this time in the future?" Undar groused.

Harry smirked good-naturedly. "Most likely; low profile and all that." Undar grunted while taking his seat. "Where are we on the list I gave you? I know it's only been a day but I thought I would check in."

Undar waved to the trunk in the corner of the room. "I believe you will be pleased with our progress. As per your instructions that cost was not an issue I have managed to get most of what you wanted already."

Harry rose and moved over to the trunk. It wasn't locked when he tried to open it, and his eyes widened when he saw the contents lying inside. He let out a low whistle; just about everything he asked for was already in there. "Damn, now _that_ is service…" he mumbled while going through the contents. For a moment he wondered if anyone else knew what happened when you made friends with the goblins.

The first thing Harry picked up looked like a foot long bar. He pressed the release button that triggered the device to extend a full three feet and he eyed the weapon appreciatively, "I didn't think you would already have the Asps."

"Yes, a potentially difficult acquisition I must admit. Fortunately we have two Muggle-born Cursebreakers who are fairly familiar with the Muggle world. The muggle objectives you asked for us to acquire was a duty given to them."

"The Potter Trust Cursebreakers you mentioned the other day?"

"The very same," Undar affirmed, "and given a chance to assist their patron was greatly received, even though it required duties that bore no part of their contract."

"They didn't have a problem with the more… interesting items of questionable legality?"

A knowing smile graced the older goblins face. "For their patron and a small bonus, there was _no_ question to the 'legality' to any of the acquisitions."

Harry nodded satisfied. Gringotts was not in the business of market acquisition to anyone. However, Harry earned his name in the Hazard and that meant he had their respect. That opened a lot of doors. It helped that Undar was a crafty bastard who was willing to throw his dice at Harry's feet for the big profits. Harry folded the baton back to its original position. He found the twin to it as well as the thigh holsters deeper in the trunk, and flipped one to look at the end - noticing the inset for the jewels he wanted added. He lifted it so Undar could see what he was questioning about. "Their work?"

Undar nodded. Harry placed them to the side before looking through the chest again. "It's very good. Let them know I approve."

Harry smiled fondly remembering the old man who taught him Eskrima, the noble art of stick fighting. Before the Rain of Death, or Rain as it was called later, he was a teacher from the Philippines who taught the art to villages there. In the new world that followed the bombs, things had become almost medieval; those who had firearms did not use them unless it was a matter of village safety, say against Raiders or Savages. Because of this disputes were usually solved in this manner; duels involving stick fighting. Harry had picked up the skill and used it countless times during his travels, and it was a skill he definitely did not want to lose touch with. He had spent years becoming an Eskrimador, and there was no way he was going to let those valuable live-saving skills go to waste. Most people had sticks of wood or old metal pipes but Harry remembered this one guy who had these foldable batons called Asp's. Easy to use, easy to handle, and more importantly, easy to conceal. With a few really tricky spells set into the jewels these would be very useful and powerful weapons.

Next Harry pulled out a satchel that contained all of the things he needed for a project he tried countless times in other Shades to complete, but had never succeeded. He let a grunt of satisfaction that everything was exactly the way it was supposed to be; down to the stitch, cut, and material. It was a last moment addition he added before he left the bank last time; added only because he now knew what he'd done wrong all those times. Being able to cross reference Shades with his vast knowledge was paying off. Of course It was worthless without the…

Harry gasped slowly bringing up what appeared to be a blueish green gemstone the size of Harry's head. "My God you found it…"

Undar leaned into the desk he sat behind with a wide toothed smile on his face. "That, My Lord, was the prize of our activities. Acquiring that piece was extremely costly. I will say you pleased old Zerilianth with your request. He stated he never had such a challenge in his life."

Harry felt his arms tremble slightly while he cradled the stone. He listened avidly as Undar continued talking. "Grandidierite. Weighed at 86,548 carats or thirty one pounds. Cut into exactly seven faced facts in triumvirate patterns measured as you wished by five's and costing your family vault three fifths of its gold. I think Zerilianth treated this stone more carefully than any born of his flesh. Brittle to cut and devilishly tricky with your preferences. Your information on its whereabouts was highly accurate. The team we sent didn't lose anyone, however their report mentioned that over half of them would be in recovery for around seven months from injuries." Undar smiled evilly, "Not that the they are complaining mind you, as every single one of them earned enough in this one contract to never work again if they so choose."

Harry stared into the cut facets of the stone in his hand. This stone was something that only existed in the annuls of Legends; half remembered and long forgotten in a language so dead he doubted Merlin himself would have even heard a whisper of it. The only reference he even had for it was from a family story shared one night while traveling with a few wanderers like himself after the Rain. At the time it was just a bit of entertainment, but now in this Shade, in this time it was something else. The story told of an ancestor that had stumbled across this stone and secreted it away; planning to sell it later, but he died before he could retrieve it - taking to the grave the knowledge of its whereabouts save for one cryptic note. The man sharing the story said his father thought he figured it out but disappeared during the Rain trying to get it. In his last Shade Harry had gotten fairly proficient at working with gems for his ward work and had planned to recreate his Keystone Ward concept this run. The problem he always had before was the lack of a proper keystone but that was solved now. He honestly didn't believe Undar's people would find it, but didn't see any harm in letting him check out the information. This stone was going to be used for something different now that he actually had it; something he tried last round but failed at because he suspected the stones he used were inferior. Now that was not going to happen.

Harry held it to the torch light allowing it to shine its blueish green and greenish blue light about the room. He was mesmerized by the pearly sheen to the facets that played like smoke over its translucent surface. "Worth every fucking gold flake Undar…" he whispered. "It has never had any magic touch it in any fashion?"

"Flawless in both its purity and cut," Undar assured him with a smug smile.

This stone was a spell crafters wet dream, and Harry was having a hard time not embarrassing himself in front of his account manager. He breathed in a shuttering breath before carefully wrapping it back in its velvet covering and placing it on the floor behind him. There was nothing stopping him from completing his multi Shade project now. This was going to speed everything up by leaps and bounds.

"How did you acquire it so fast or get it cut so soon?"

"Originally I sent a small team to investigate the lead. When they reported what they found I sent one of our most experienced and veteran teams. They are known for their speed and record of completing contracts. The damage to the team warranted the decision. As to how it was finished so quickly, we are very good with gem stones, and Zerilianth is _the_ best in his field. It only took a few hours to get the stone here and I heard Zerilianth didn't sleep or rest the entire time he had it."

"Worth every fucking gold flake," Harry repeated

"I hope so My Lord; that one item almost bankrupted your house."

"The muggle investments I asked you to invest in will see it recovered in months. No trouble acquiring the stocks I wanted?"

Unimpressed with Harry's assurance and obviously distrustful of Harry's plan Undar still nodded. "Yes. We had to liquidate nearly all of the resources you permitted for your portfolio to reach the levels you wished. I will say again that I do not approve of this venture; the risk is great, especially with such minor or new companies."

Harry smiled knowingly. In a year his investments will see a return of over twelve hundred percent when those companies skyrocketed to success. It had already happened in other Shades. "You will see in a couple of months. You might want to think of getting on that train; you won't be sorry, trust me. Profits won't be nearly as good in six months as they will be if you get them now."

Harry dug around the other odds and ends nodding at Undar's explanations on how they were acquired and what he saw in there. Finally he pulled the wand he was looking for; thankful that Undar managed to get it. He felt the familiar warmth come from the Cedar wand. "Any trouble with Mundungus?"

Again the goblin grinned. "Mr. Fletcher has certain debts to certain unsavory people. He was quite happy to surrender the wand for us to not reveal his whereabouts."

Harry nodded. He was always a bit sore at the old crook for his habits and the trouble he caused, so wasn't too fussed about the inconvenience to him, or about the morals of essentially blackmailing a man out of his wand. The Cedar wand in his hand was his back up in the last Shade and had the benefit of being completely untraceable and a match. Untraceable would be the only kind a crook like Mung would ever use. Harry cast the most powerful protection charms on the reverently wrapped stone; encasing it in a soft black star-field-looking bubble. Harry nodded, the wand was every bit as decent as the last time he used it.

"You've done a great job. I don't suppose you managed to get the trunk?"

"Of course." Undar opened one of his drawers and pulled out a necklace with a little chest dangling from it.

"Seven Compartments; the special order tent you asked us to find located in compartment one, All books from your family vault have been added to your library compartment, currency for our world as well as several muggle nations per your request in another, and the forge is in section seven. The tent has been furnished the way you wished using the items you requested from your family vault and the other compartments are empty or filled with the specifications you left with me when last we spoke. Shrinking charm and feather light enchantments added as well as anti-theft measures to prevent anyone who does not carry your blood to remove the chain once it is worn."

He could tell Undar was curious about the trunk, or rather what it contained but wouldn't ask. He would know some of it soon enough. Harry took a few moments to transfer everything to the sorcerer's trunk before hanging it on his neck. Harry took out a parchment from his robe and handed it to Undar. "Shopping list," he explained, "nothing critical there that requires great speed, but I would like it filled by September First. I'll send Kreacher to pick it all up or to find out what was done."

Undar nodded as he looked over the list. "We can manage this by then."

"Good. Any word on Ayres?"

The goblin nodded. "He was last rumored to be in Iraq. Your messenger should be there now and we should have a reply in a few weeks."

Harry nodded. Ayres was critical to his future plans. He hoped he would be able to convince him. "Lastly Undar as it is late and I have already angered your wife enough by dragging you out of bed, what progress on the forming of the Guild?"

"Ah, a tricky venture to be sure and froth with paperwork. New Guild formations are not very common especially one the likes of Raven Constructions. I shouldn't have to remind you Mr. Potter there currently are no guilds that cross Enchantment, Charm, or Curse Breaking boundaries. Alchemy has always been a very secretive branch of magic and never before has a Guild been founded on its premise."

"That is something we are going to change. How long?"

"We might be able to see complete formation and ground breaking by October. However, I am more inclined to believe December if your Ministry continues to be so obstinate."

Harry nodded his head. There really wasn't much he could do about it. He had already given Undar the list of people susceptible to bribery to push it through. Lucius wasn't the only one who knew the system and could work it to his ends. Susan taught him a lot about what she called, 'dirty politics'. They even had to use it a few times to push measures through they needed to enact during their day. "Alright then, keep me apprised if you please. The properties have already been purchased?"

"Of course and sheltered under your alias as we discussed. It is completely untraceable to you personally and once the Guild forms no records will exist except within the muggle clerk's offices as per the Pureblood Guild secrecy laws enacted two hundred years ago and the only reason for that is because the land you wished was owned by a muggle. Excellent bit of research on your part my Lord, I didn't even know of that loophole. Very impressive. The Clerk's office can be taken care of if you deem it prudent, and all the Guilds have done so in the past so there will be no problems on this issue. Construction has already begun so that when final approval is granted everything will be ready to move at full pace. As per your request the facility will remain empty until your Guildmaster takes over. Funds for the project have been allocated form the liquidation of the artifacts you set aside. That fund is fairly depleted and will be dry by the time construction finishes.

As to the other property, it's ready now and already has the requested items already stored there for safe keeping. Three teams of Gringotts Cursebreakers will have it warded to the teeth within a few weeks. For sure by the middle of September."

"Excellent." The Potters, Harry knew, were not known for being very rich. The reason was that every family head usually acquired a new property for his family to his or his lady's own taste in furnishings to equip it so not much was saved in raw gold. However, nothing was ever sold, just stored. Over four hundred generations of packrats. After the Hazard, Harry cleaned house except for something from each generation, things like heirlooms, portraits and the like. The rest was sold and most of it to collectors. Both muggle and wizarding patrons walked away lighter in their pockets while Harry made a mint from selling mundane and magical antiquities going back over two thousand years. Of course, he was spending it about as fast as it came in but his stocks would take care of that issue.

"I think that's everything Undar."

"A pleasure doing business with you Mr. Potter."

Harry shook the goblin's hand with a smile, "Same to you Manager Undar."

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Harry looked at the Marauders Map while chewing on the aspirin in his mouth. The hangover he had earned from drinking practically all day was starting to kill him. _Okay, I guess I could afford to tone it down some… _he sighed. He was lucky it didn't set in until after his meeting with Undar. That would have ruined his night worse than it was now.

Kreacher stood next to him holding the locket by the chain while Harry checked the map. Both of them were under his invisibility cloak. He didn't see anyone near them or near their route to Myrtles bathroom, so after one last check he folded the map; stowing it in his cloak pocket before opening the passage from Honey Dukes and letting himself and his companion into the old Scottish castle.

"Got to make a quick stop to the Seventh floor, and then we'll head to the place I was telling you about," he whispered to the house elf.

Whispering back he heard Kreacher croak, "Of course Master."

Kreacher kept quiet the entire time they made their way through the passages. He was really thankful when the little elf didn't have any problem getting his things from Sirius' Room. This trip would have been practically impossible without it. Deaths cloak was one of only a handful of things that could keep him screened from Hogwarts all seeing eye. He couldn't take the risk the old castle would rat him out to Dumbledore or, the ever vigilant eyes of the numerous portraits in the halls. With his headache he really didn't want to trust to his disillusionment charm work.

Apparently after the Order patched themselves back together one of them was hale enough to gather his things from the Dursleys; even those that he had stored in the false floor under his bed. Harry figured it was Mad-Eye, but either way that secret hidey hole was no longer so secret. Not that it mattered much to him. He had better places to store his valuables now. Sirius had taken possession of the loot until he resurfaced but had yet to officially give him his things. Most likely Dumbledore's orders but either way easily bypassed with a little help from Kreature.

After what seemed like forever they entered the Room of Hidden Things allowing Harry to grab the Diadem and then reach the bathroom within record time. Harry immediately sealed the room and opened the passage that offered stairs. A neat trick he discovered in his last Shade while running the Vanguard. He took the cloak off them and led Kreacher down into the dark depths while holding onto the Cedar wand; the light spell radiating from its tip.

As he walked into the depths of the Chamber of Secrets Harry thought about his plans so far. Having the twins on his side was good, especially after hearing how they had already done a lot of work to furthering their business. Harry didn't know how they made a lot of their products, but he had mentioned a few things he knew they created in other Shades and how it would be cool if they could manage it. Once they did, and he knew they'd stop at nothing to create his ideas if their enthusiasm earlier was anything to go by. Harry planned to buy a lot of them. If there was one thing the twins did well it was developing things that made rule breaking a lot easier.

Harry ended their foray with little fuss or fanfare. To be honest it was nowhere near as dramatic as in previous Shades, and if not for how this helped Kreacher heal it wouldn't even be a note in the pages of History. Once in the chamber Harry pulled a fang from the basilisk's mouth and gave it to Kreacher. The insane House Elf took great pleasure in stabbing both the Locket, once Harry opened it, and the Diadem; killing two more pieces of Riddle bringing the total to three. Neither of them had prolonged exposure to either for the fragments to activate. Made it a lot easier to deal with them without the whole 'I know your greatest secret' bollox. As for continuing to the others the only one he had access to at the moment was the Ring once he figured out where Little Harrington was. While the cup; Nagini, his own Horcrux would have to wait until he captured a Death Eater to murder so he could cut it out of him and transfer it to something else. As far as the cup goes, he already had an idea on how to persuade the goblins to look the other way when he went for that. If he was lucky this Christmas Nagini would come to him, though he wasn't sure how much that would change things as far as putting Riddle on the defensive. The loss of the snake needed to be last since it was going to tip him off. He wasn't worried. He'd be ready long before then.

They left the chamber via Kreacher's ability to bypass Hogwarts wards. The only trophy Harry took was the fang he pulled out of his arm all those years ago. It was still laying where he tossed it that day. Hopefully, his still half formed plans would work out the way they needed too. Only time would tell.

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Harry sat tiredly in his chair. He already had a long day and it hadn't even started yet. The old clock chimed the hour reminding him it was five in the morning. With one last rub of his eyes he looked at Kreacher who had been patiently waiting. "Okay. You know how to get to Hogwarts now. In the kitchen you can find an elf called Dobby and another one called Winky. Both are free elves. You might need to help Dobby with Winky because I am pretty sure she is drunk. Bring them both here please. Tell them, quietly mind you because I don't want the other elves to know, that Harry Potter wishes to see them."

"Kreacher will do so Master." The elf croaked before vanishing.

Harry leaned his head back into the headrest of his chair. _So much to do. I really shouldn't have drunk so much last afternoon…_

He had started to fall asleep by the time the Kreacher returned with the other two, but the loud 'crack' woke him from his daze enough to see them standing before him. Dobby was bouncing on his feet, obviously excited by the fact Harry called for him, while Winky was pooled on the floor in limp heap; still clutching the bottle of Butterbeer. Kreacher didn't seem too think much of either elf as he looked at them in disgust.

Before Dobby could start shouting about how happy he was Harry held up his hand. "It's good to see you too Dobby but I asked Kreacher to bring you here for a reason." After Harry watched Dobby nod and remain silent he got to the meat of it all. "I know about the origins behind the House Elf Enslavement. I also know you need to be bonded." At this Harry noted Winky stir to look at him drunkenly. "I am offering you two the chance to bond to House Potter. I don't have a place yet were I can take you, but will soon." Curbing Dobby's quivering lip and obvious want to jump him, he held up his hand again to stop him. "There are conditions however. Black and _especially_ Potter elves will be held to a higher standard than other elves. Other Purebloods might be comfortable with their elves walking around in rags, but we will not. Our elves will wear Uniforms; they will dress appropriately, befitting their various duties - so several different types of uniforms for each of you.

"If memory serves there should be a room available in the basement to convert to a dormitory. Two rooms, as I am sure Winky will be more comfortable in her own. Beds for the three of you; one _each_, and dressers, and changing tables as well.

"I expect all uniforms to be well maintained and appropriate dress to be worn depending on your duties. Kreacher will be Head Elf and I would like you two to learn from him and share your own knowledge with him so he may learn from you. Dobby will be my personal manservant while Winky's duties will be to any lady who happens to be a guest or such when the time comes for us to relocate to my new home.

"Just so we are clear, dismissal, should it come to that and I don't ever see that as a possibility, will be me formally declaring the bond broken while giving the dismissed elf their old tea towel back."

Harry turned to Kreacher. "I would like you to draw schedules for each of you for cleaning, cooking, maintenance, gardening and yes I would like the front and rear garden cleaned up and put back to its proper form, as well as any other thing you might think of that you guys normally do."

Kreacher nodded; a proud look on his face, and Harry noticed and felt encouraged by it. "The reason I am telling you this, Kreacher, is that you are the Black House Elf and this is the House of Black. Winky comes from a very… strict and traditional house. After being dismissed she has been drinking and not taking care of herself from shame. Dobby is very… eccentric, and as much as I love the little guy the way he is, he is a bit _too_ eccentric. All three of you are very skilled, good, and loyal elves. I want you three to learn from each other and grow together as we will be one family soon - if you two agree."

Winky had managed to get into a sitting position. "You want… hic… Winky to be yous elf?" Harry nodded, and she frowned drunkenly, "But you wants us to take clothes. We can't takes clothes and bes bonded…"

"Uniforms, not clothes," he corrected, "and in addition to that all three of you will be paid for your loyalty, services, and duties. Days off will be given for holidays or other such events you might desire to attend."

"O's no Harry Potter that bes too much…" Dobby stated before Harry raised his hand.

"This is how it will be, or you can go back to trying to bond to Hogwarts, which as you know will never happen. Black and Potter elves are not slaves, but friends and family. Neither house will disrespect our friends or family by enslaving them. I understand this will be difficult to acclimatize to, but you will still be bonded; the only difference will be that you hold greater freedoms in this new life I offer."

"Kreacher will have to wear the Uniforms too Master?"

Harry nodded solemnly, "Yes Kreacher. I know you are technically Sirius' Elf but I know if I ask him he will give me permission to do this with you."

"Master has done much for Kreacher. Kreacher would like to be a proper Black and Potter House Elf. Kreacher will do as Master asks."

Not to be outdone Dobby stepped up. "Dobby want to be Potter Elf!" he squeaked.

Harry turned to look at Winky. She listed one way and the other trying to focus her eyes on Harry while thinking through her haze. "I's will be a proper elf? We's will be bonded even though Winky is bad House Elf?"

"Winky you are a good House Elf who was in a bad situation," Harry assured her softly with a reassuring smile, "and House Potter would be overjoyed to have you join us."

"You's not going to make Winky betray old masters secrets?"

Harry shook his head with a grin, he always loved Winky. She was fiercely loyal even to masters who had been dead for months. "See? You are a very good House Elf who keeps her masters secrets even when that master was bad to you and they have already passed on. I will never ask you to betray those secrets Winky."

It seemed to take her a long time to finally make her decision. In the end Harry was happy to bond both elves to him. _Wait till Molly wakes up and the Kitchen is staffed, dishes are done, and all meals are taken care of. _Harry smirked at the mental image of a flustered Ms. Weasley trying to figure out how to spend her day without cooking or cleaning to fill it. _That woman is going to go spare!_ A fitting enough payback for the ribbing he had to endure from her the previous day. Harry looked at the clock. It had just turned six. His trial was at eight, not that they cared to inform him of it since it was supposed to be much later. Harry changed into the expensive robes from his shrunken trunk and picked up the woodwind he got the other day.

By the time he finished dressing and making himself presentable only ten minutes had passed. He concealed his Cedar wand up his sleeve and took his Holly wand before stowing it in his pocket. _Alright Fudge, let's see who the better Politician is. Minister Fudgepacker or the New and Improved Harry Potter…_

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Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic and acting Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was having a great day. The prophet had spent the last two months vilifying Harry Potter and ruining his reputation and that was fantastic, however the icing on the cake came not long ago when Harry Potter preformed the Patronus Charm in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood. This was his ticket to silence that wretched boy's fictitious blabbering on about the return of Lord…Thingy. Minister Fudge shuddered just thinking of that beast's name, even in reference.

He had done his best to bring down Dumbledore as far as he could but didn't discount his ability to turn things around. For this reason he changed the time and venue for the trial from Madam Marchbancks office to Court Room Ten, and had summoned the full Wizengamot into attendance. Most of them hated that they were here at all, and that soured them against the boy before the trial even started! He made sure that Weasley sent the Owl with the information of the changes, and had specifically instructed the letter to get there far too late so that Potter wouldn't even show himself. This would give him the option to order his arrest and finally put an end to his nonsense. If the boy didn't show then he was automatically declared guilty. And so with Potters fall, Dumbledore's last support base would crumble alongside.

He was dressed in his plum-colored Wizengamot robes and talking idly to Delores Umbridge about his plans for reforming Hogwarts this year when they finally walked into Court Room Ten.

And just like that his day was flushed down the loo quicker than last night's dinner.

From various other doors other members entered the room to see the same thing he did, and within moments everyone that was in attendance found themselves looking down into the center of the court. There, sitting in the chain covered chair as if without a worry in the world, was the defendant, Harry Potter. He was impeccably dressed in his House Robes that proudly bore the crest of Head of House in Ascendance; the Potter crest of a shield backed by a crossed sword and wand emitting three burning stars shown proudly on his right breast. His feet rested on a small, plush footrest.

However, it was the sound reverberating around the dark dungeon that brought everyone's attention in stunned disbelief to the woodwind flute in his hands. The melody was haunting yet uplifting. The sound was pure and demanded you listen. Just like anyone else Fudge couldn't find it in him to force the boy to stop.

The torches around the room seemed to flicker to the tune being played as if dancing to the melody. When Potter finished playing it was completely silent in the Court Room. Harry looked up at his audience. "I love the acoustics in this room. Would it be possible for me to get the blueprints for it so I can have one like it made?"

Harry's comment snapped Fudge out of his Stupor. "What are you doing here Potter?" he blustered.

Harry smirked at the rattled Mister. "Awaiting my trial for Underage Magic Minister. I would have thought that was obvious since you are the one who scheduled it."

"And HOW exactly did you know to be in this Court Room at this time when you are supposed to think your trial was several hours away?"

Harry allowed his smirk to widen; Fudge had just hung himself in front of the entire Wizengamot. Judging by the reactions of those august members he wasn't the only one to catch that slip. "I didn't. I heard from a school friend that the acoustics in this room rocked and was waiting for my trial later by testing it out."

_Checkmate you fucktard. I own your arse now._

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.

**Shout Out!** A great story to read if any are interested, is Harry Potter & the Curse's Cure by Dragon-Raptor. I don't think I could have done so well with that concept.


	9. Hearing and After's

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 8, Hearing and After's**

'_The hearing was a joke and by the time I said my piece everyone knew it. Now that I think about it I never did get the design specs for the courtroom. Damn…'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry sat back in his chair while Fudge stared at him angrily. Fudge had no clue who he was fucking with but he was about to find out. Red-faced Fudge sat down in his chair while the others gathered their places.

Once all fifty members of the Wizengamot had taken their seats with Fudge in the middle he started. "With All of us present…"

Harry muttered under his breath but clear enough for a few to hear him, "Finally…"

"…Let us began. Are all ready?" He looked back and forth.

"Yes sir." Harry recognized that voice as being Percy's. _Twat._ Harry thought. Yeah the prick did come round eventually in prior Shades but at this time in this life he was still a penis wrinkle.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," Said Fudge in an authoritive voice. "Into offences committed under the decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Stature of Secrecy by Harry James Potter resident at Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surrey.

Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge Minister for Magic, Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, senior Undersecretary to the Minister, court Scribe Percy Ignatius Weasley."

Harry smiled when Dumbledore didn't walk through the door unlike in prior times. By now they must have noticed his absence and summoned him back to look for him. He preferred it this way. He didn't need Dumbledore to save him. Harry would sink or swim on his own.

"The Charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the August the second at Twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and so under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards Stature of Secrecy.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge asked glaring holes in Harry.

Harry almost rolled his eyes at the blatant intimidation tactic. _I've done so much better on my worse day. _"Correct Minister."

"You received an Official Warning from the Ministry for Using Illegal Magic three Years ago, did you not?"

"I have evidence that the incident…"

"Yes or No Mister Potter."

"…in question was actually an action of a…

"Answer the Question Boy!"

"…house elf named Dobby who was at that moment…"

"I will hold you in contempt if you do not answer my question this instant!"

"…was in the employ of one Lucius Malfoy." Harry finished unfazed by Fudges rants. "And unless I am mistaken, Minister, I am allowed to bring forth any and all relevant evidence to any questions that are asked of me in trial. Especially since this is a full Wizengamot trial. You asked about an offence I did not do but was punished for because there was no investigation. I have evidence gained independently in that issue. I am allowed to present it in my defense…"

"We do not have time to entertain flights of fancy by some delusional miscreant!"

Harry smiled again. "…against any question asked, granted to me by the Charter of Defendant rights, 1912."

Harry noted several of the surly looks he got from the beginning where now thoughtful at how this trial was going so far. "Mister Potter, did you or did you not receive an official Warning from the Ministry three years ago for Underage Magic?" seethed Fudge.

He pushed this issue enough. He knew there was no way he was going to be allowed to do anything about it but Harry wanted the panel thinking about what was happening at this moment. "Yes I…"

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" Pressed Fudge.

"In self…

"Mister Potter I will throw you into a cell in our Law Enforcement department if you do not immediately answer my question!"

"…defense against two…"

Fudge was quickly losing control of his temper as Harry kept talking. "NOW MR. POTTER!"

"Dementors."

Harry had yet to raise his voice to more than a calm collected tone of respect and explanation. Fudge was beet red with a purple vein sticking out of his forehead. Harry could tell that most of the Wizengamot was now looking puzzled at him and Fudge. It was becoming painfully obvious even to the most obtuse observer something wasn't right here. Harry was not acting like a spoiled delusional teen over wrought with emotion and prone to rash behavior. He was cool, collected, and respectful in the face of fierce animosity.

"What Poppycock is this? Dementors in Little Whinging?" Fudge blustered but immediately calmed down thinking he was sensing he found Harry's plan. "Ah, very cleaver Mr. Potter. I can see you have thought this out quite well. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient. So it is your word and no witnesses and we are supposed to take that as that then?"

"The Muggle you stated was witness to the Patronus was my cousin whom I live with, and witnessessed the attack I saved us from. He wouldn't be able to verify two of them but would verify without a doubt as to the fact they were there."

"If he couldn't see them explain then Potter how he would be able to validate your story?"

"In 1987 a researcher named Kelvin Ion gained permission to study the effects Dementors have on magicals. In 1988 He received permission, from you Minister, to take one Dementor and conduct tests on Muggles and Squibs to see how they reacted to the presence of them. In his documented research and later published text he observed that though they could not see them Muggles and Squibs could feel them very well. His work is considered to be the source for all things Dementors. So, since this is a documented Ministry approved source there shouldn't be any issues with summiting Dudley's Dursley's testimony to the effect Dementors were present on the night in question." Harry explained.

Fudge's plump face seemed to slacken before he started pulling himself together again. "We haven't got time to listen to more taradiddles, I'm afraid, Potter. I want this dealt with quickly…

Harry looked over to who was once his Aunt-in-Law. During that Shade he got to know the Stern Head of the Magical Law Enforcement department quite well. Her subtle wry humor always cracked him up. However it was her unbiased attitude he was hoping to rely on at this moment. "By the Charter of rights I should be allowed to summit any and all witnesses for my defense. Is that not so Madam Bones?"

"True, Perfectly true." She responded. Harry was looking right into her eyes and could see this trial had got her thinking.

"O, very well very well. Where is this person then Potter?"

"Unfortunately I was not aware at the time I came into the Ministry that I would be held under the full court of the Wizengamot so was unable to gain the necessary clearance through the Department of Law Enforcement to get permission for a Muggle, even one who is Magic aware, to enter the Ministry of Magic so I would assume he is in Surrey with his parents. I personally wouldn't know since I have been staying somewhere else since the attack." Harry admitted. Truth of the matter was no one was going to give a flying shit fart about Dudley's testimony. He was a muggle, and there for nothing he said was worth shite. Harry was just once again trying to show how the system was stacked against him.

"It is not the fault of this court if you are unprepared for the trial you are facing, Mr. Potter. Do not blame your inadequacies on us. Now since, again, you can produce no witness to your defense we can finally get this over with quickly then…"

_Time to go for the sweet spot… "_Well it's clear you want this over and done with quickly _Minister_, but to what end? You seem to be hell-bent on getting me imprisoned today. Why, you're bringing all your evidence to the table, all biased by the way with only your word to back it up, and you're not allowing me to present unbiased, and new evidence to the trial. By denying me the ability to produce evidence you are denying my right to Clause Seven of the Decree for reasonable use of Magic by a minor in exceptional circumstances!

According to the first letter I received after the event in question; and yes I have it here on me to show to the court, the first response of the Ministry was to expel me; something the Ministry has no power to do, and snap my wand; again something that cannot be done without a trial where _ALL_ evidence is presented and judgment passed before the this august body. So why the hell is the entire Wizengamot here, Minister, if this was your intention from the very beginning?

You dragged them here for an _underage_ trial? That hasn't happened in... well, ever. I know from having looked into the record books on public record that there has only been one case of Underage Magic being tried by the Court and that was after the offender's _tenth_ offence and it was his father tried not the minor! To be tried by the entire Wizengamot, as you have here, one must be an adult, and the charges must be at least class C. This charge, or charges, Minister, is class E at best... so what's your agenda? These well respected people you have summoned to try me are busy people, and you're wasting their time on a farce of a trial. The worst case of punishment for a second_ just_ offence was the offenders wand was taken from them for the summer to be given back at the start of term yet here I am looking at full expulsion, a snapped wand, and/or prison time in Azkaban!

There has been only ONE time I have ever used magic outside of Hogwarts and that was in my third year when I lost control over my emotions and by accident inflated my Aunt who was slandering my parents. This offence was dismissed, by you Minister, and never entered into my record. I have evidence you won't listen to for the first recorded offence of a hover charm that proves I didn't do it. I have evidence of justified use of the Patronus, again that you won't listen too.

So let's do this then Minister. I am sure you have my cell at Azkaban already picked out and I'm sure the Dementors I pissed all over the other day want to get reacquainted."

Harry sat back in disgust as the Wizengamot for the most part all glared at Fudge, who at this point was very, very pale. When he turned to look and glower at Harry held out his arms in the traditional method of one waiting to be cuffed. He took in the looks on the other Wizengamot's faces and was generally pleased with what he saw.

_New and Improved Harry; One. Fudgepacker; zero._

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Sirius walked down one of the corridors to his family home frustrated. No one had seen or heard from Harry all morning and to make matters worse, his trial for Underage Magic Use was due to start in an hour. He could hear the running of feet and the slamming of doors mingled with various calls for 'Harry' throughout the old manor. It was like the boy vanished like a fart in the wind.

He came down the stairs from the third floor where he had already searched three times making for the kitchen. There was just no help for it, he wasn't in the house. For the life of him Sirius could not figure out how he got out at all. As he started up to round down the stairs all thoughts of where Harry was were driven from his mind.

Before him stood two house elves, one he recognized, dressed in very smart butler uniforms. Sirius blinked as he heard Kreature's croaking voice explain the significance of the house elf heads on the wall and why all of them as well as other black adornments were going into storage.

"…House of Black and Potter. Master Harry was very certain he did not want them burned but…" Kreature and the other elf turned to look at Sirius watching them. Kreature bowed to him side kicking Dobby. Dobby jumped but mimicked the older elf.

"Master Sirius Black, how can Kreature serve you today?"

"What are you doing wearing clothes Kreature and who is that?" he asked pointing at Dobby.

"Master Harry say's these are not clothes but Uniforms Master. Master Harry told us he wanted Black and Potter Elves to be held to a higher standard than other elves. This is Dobby and Dobby is a new elf to the Houses of Black and Potter. Master Harry asked Kreature to help Dobby learn his duties."

_What the bloody hell is going on around here? _"Have you seen Harry Kreature?" Sirius decided to table this for now if he could. He had enough to be going on with at the moment.

"Yes Master Sirius. Master Harry is outside in the plaza talking to a…" Sirius raised an eyebrow as Kreature seemed to swallow his tongue for a moment. It looked painful. "…muggle girl."

"Right then. Back…back to whatever you were doing then." Sirius stated while he made for the front door. Once he crossed the portal that lead him outside he took a moment to smile.

Harry was indeed across the street in the plaza talking to a very pretty young woman with blond hair. Sirius noticed the fair skinned lass was sitting in his godsons lap in a very friendly manner with Harry whispering to her making her giggle and blush while he idly played with her hair. Sirius could see Harry was dressed to the nine's in his Head of House clothes with the robe folded off to the side. The contrast between Muggle and Wizarding fashions was glaringingly obvious. He slowly started making his way closer. _There is a Marauder in there after all. Go on my son…_

"…Italy. Have you ever been to Milan?" Sirius heard from Harry once he got close enough.

The woman shook her head while drawing little lines on his chest. "No, not yet. I always wanted to go though. When are you going to be back in town again?"

Sirius noticed Harry's eyes flick to him before he returned them to the lass. "Probably not for a while. Once summers over I have to go to my privet school. Most likely I won't make it back in town until about Christmas time." Harry turned to look at him through the long tresses of his lady friend. "Hey Sirius, this is Joan. Joan, my Godfather Sirius Moon." He leaned in and stage whispered in her ear, "Don't laugh though, his mum really hated him to name him so. It's kinda sad really."

Joan's soft laughter sounded from her while Harry continued talking while pointing at Sirius's clothes which were very much like Harry's but more casual. "See I told you it was all the rage in Milan. Very fashionable. I take it we have to get ready for our flight Sirius?"

Catching on and playing his part he allowed a smirk to show and nodded. "Fraid so Pup."

"Sorry sweets but it looks like our afternoon is over."

Sirius watched as she tucked a pit of paper into his pocket before she gave him a very friendly kiss on his mouth. He raised an eyebrow impressed despite himself. Harry's eyes looked a little glassy when she pulled free. "Have a good trip and call me when you can Harry."

His godson sported a goofy grin on his face while she got off his lap and started walking away. "Definitely…"

Both watched as she walked away swinging her hips with just a bit of extra exuberance. Once she reached her house she gave Harry one last burning wink before entering what Sirius assumed was her home.

"Is there any way you can smuggle me from Hogsmeade to here first visit? I was well on my way to getting a lot more friendly before you showed up and bollixed it up." Harry stated.

He couldn't help it. Sirius laughed his trademark bark before shaking his head and sitting down next to Harry. "Sorry son but you know it'll be more than my arse if I took you from Hogsmeade without Dumbledore's permission."

Harry sighed but didn't say anything. "You want to tell me what that was about?"

"I thought it was pretty obvious I was chatting up a very friendly lady." Harry turned to look at his Godfather. "I think Azkaban messed with your head if you don't know what that is anymore. Remus once told me you were the self-proclaimed ladies' man of Hogwarts in your day, even if it was in your own mind. You don't recognize a bit of skirt chasing?"

Sirius smiled at Harry's antics. "Yes, that bit was obvious even to this old con. I was actually referring to your disappearing act earlier."

Harry leaned back against the fountain and sighed. "Taking care of business Sirius. Fudge moved my trial to eight this morning instead of ten. Not only that but moved the venue over to Court Room Ten for a full trial by Wizengamot. Once I knew I had to move fast."

Sirius didn't bother to hide his astonishment. "How in the hell did you figure that out? Wait, more importantly what happened at the trial?"

Harry shrugged. "I tried to defend myself and Fudge tried to bully the verdict he wanted to push through. He wasn't interested in my defense, I was guilty before court even started but the other members were getting uncomfortable with what was going on when I started pointing out what was happening. Not guilty by a vote of 43-7."

Sirius smiled genially. "That's great news Harry. Did Dumbledore show up with Figg?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope, just me in there. I left after the trial and decided I needed some air so took a bus most of the way here and was going to walk the rest of the way. That's where I meet Joan and we started chatting."

Sirius wagged his eyebrows at Harry. "Like her do you?"

Harry smiled. "Well enough for a sport fuck." Both of Sirius's eyebrows jumped into his hairline at Harrys very blunt statement. "She's not interested in anything big since she just broke up with her boyfriend of three years. Mentioned she wouldn't mind a little non-serious fun though. I'm pretty sure if you hadn't shown up when you did she would have invited me over to her place for some friendly quality time." Harry turned to his godfather. "You Sirius, are a cock block and I hate you almost as much as the cold shower I'm due for in a bit."

He laughed. "I've been called a lot of things in my life but a Cock Block has not ever been one of them."

Harry smirked. "Well, you're a bastard too for trying something new then. And an arsehole."

xxxxxxxx

Harry walked through the front door stopping only when he noticed the troll leg umbrella stand and the portrait of Sirius's Mum was gone. He smiled silently thanking the elves.

After closing the door Sirius noticed the same things. "That reminds me, where did you get the other House elf and do I really want to know about how you convince them to wear clothes?"

Harry smirked. "Uniforms, not clothes. And I got two elves not just one. Not sure where Winky is but I bet she's wageing a battle with Ms. Weasley over who runs the kitchen."

About that time both of them heard the sounds of a pan hitting something and Ms. Weasleys screeching. Harry's smile got wider.

Neither moved as neither were very inclined to enter the battlefield that was currently going on in the Kitchen. Both however did notice the living room looked loads better. Nowhere near as drab, dark or dank. Colors shown proudly neutral family tapestries hung with other such art on the walls giving it a much more homely feel.

Harry turned to the stairs with a grown when he heard two people arguing. It was getting louder and coming their way.

"You're going to have to face them some time Pup. They've been very worried about you before you got here. We all were."

Harry sighed. "I know Sirius and I respect that. There's just so much you don't know that is going on."

"Why don't you talk to me about it Harry? You know I'm here for you."

Harry smiled in appreciation at his Godfather. "Thanks Sirius and I love you for it. You're the closest thing to a Father I have with Dad gone but some of this isn't something I can talk about. Not yet at least."

Sirius was silent for a moment while they listened to voices get closer. They were easily recognizable as Hermione and Ron now. "This have anything to do with how high strung you are? Or your new attitude?" Harry turned to look at him while Sirius continued. "Don't get me wrong Harry, I like that you are loosening up and looking past the grittier aspects of life into the more pleasant. Reminds me of me and your Dad during our Hogwarts days. I've always been irresponsible and rebellious. It as how I kept my sanity in this dreadful house with my Mother screeching all her pureblood nonsense. Your Dad had his own family Legacy to up hold too but didn't run from his like I did mine. He did act out quite a bit until your mum knocked some sense into him. I see a lot of James in the way you've been acting lately, and a bit of me. Not a bad thing but not exactly a good thing either to some people.

"All I am saying Harry is we had Remus to hold us in check so we didn't get too far out there. I'm worried you might not know where that line is." Sirius took a deep breath before he broached a subject that might turn against him. He cleared his throat while keeping his eye on the stairs. "This new… adjustment in your personality wouldn't have anything to do with a certain book of 'Deeds' would it?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. He vividly remembered reading his father's words, the first time he had ever seen his father's handwriting, in his families spell and history book where it showed Sirius was there standing with him when he claimed his Head of House status when he turned seventeen in his last Shade. Then he was never able to talk to Sirius about any of it because he was already gone. However, things were different this round. At the stairs he saw his friend's feet begin the decent. Their time was just about up for a privet chat.

He turned to Sirius again. "Something like that. I'm glad Dad had you with him when he stood." Harry stated cryptically but Sirius got the hint as understanding lit his eyes, as well as a deep sadness.

"You've been to the goblins like your grandfather didn't you Harry? That was how you got all messed up, isn't? You never got into a fight with any muggle gang?" He asked.

Harry nodded slowly before turning to see his friends finally noticing him standing there. The sight of Harry stunned them enough for their argument to cease. "Later Sirius. It's not something that is supposed to be known. Just like Grandfather."

Hermione seemed to break out of her stupor before rushing down the remaining stairs and grabbing Harry in a fierce bone crushing hug. Harry held his breath against the pain in his healing bones while slightly patting her back. After the moment passed she let go and smacked him in the shoulder. As angry as he knew she was over his attitude and antics yesterday he knew she was even more worried he had disappeared earlier.

"Prat! Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you and your Trial! Harry you're going to be expelled for sure…"

Harry smiled reassuringly. He knew immediately by her tone of voice yesterday had not been forgotten, just tabled for the moment. He knew Hermione well enough to know she was going to ambush him later when they could talk in privacy. "Relax Hermione, I've been at my trial and it's already over. Cleared of all charges."

"O, Harry that's wonderful! Of course they there really was no way for them to do anything else but it's still good to hear you're clear…" Hermione gushed before fading off at Harry and Ron starring at each other.

Harry starred at the red faced teen in front of him. He could see the anger at him getting knocked out and the recognition of how he was the one because of his insensitivity made that event happen. This time Harry had no intention of letting Ron off the hook. He liked Ron, even if he was a berk at times, but Harry didn't have time for it anymore. He was just too _old_ for that shite.

Several tense moments passed in silence. Sirius watched the scene play out knowing it had to be this way while Hermione stood to the other side watching with anxious eyes.

"Lucky mate. Glad you, you know, got cleared." Ron finally gave.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Luck had nothing to do with it Ron. I did my research and was well prepared."

Several more moments passed with neither talking. Harry knew Ron was expecting for Harry to apologies but Harry wasn't ever going to. Harry wanted Ron to apologies but it was becoming very obvious he wasn't going to. The tension was getting too thick for him so Harry just gave up.

He broke eye contact looking to Sirius to Hermione before looking back at Ron. "I'm done and got better things to do than stand here waiting for you to grow up Ron."

With that Harry walked past them and headed upstairs to the Library. He had a few things to sort out and plan before he made his next move. If he was lucky, he could hide out for the day from Hermione. He just wasn't in the mood for it today.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.

I have had a few people comment on how Hermione is portrayed in this story so far. All I can say is Ask yourself how you would react if your good friend, best friend, suddenly changed this much? How would you act if your nature was slightly bossy, know it all, bookish, used to getting her way and winning? The pairing will make sense as the story progresses. I promise you.

**Shout Out!** A great story to read if any are interested is The Marriage Contracts Redux by Clell65619. I will tell you something; this story changed my entire perspective on Neville. A fantastic read and strongly recommended. Also after pming with Clell65619 inspired the Potter and Longbottom alliance in this story, and others in this series.


	10. Break In

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 9, Break In**

'…_That night I learned a valuable lesson. I can kill for what is right and be okay, but I can't use the Dark Arts. I like them too much…'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

It was the night before the last day of Holidays.

The last few weeks had been vaguely amusing as the teens tried to figure out what was going on within the Order; Mrs. Weasley was sharp as a tack, and ever since the Elves had taken to doing all the cleaning and cooking she'd taken it upon herself to be the aggressive shield against knowledge, and crusaded to keep them all in the dark about what was going on.

Even Sirius had been quiet, which was saying something, and Harry was pretty sure that was Dumbledore's doing. It fit with the information blackout that was in place before he got here, because if the teens learned anything then they would've likely told Harry all the details and that just wouldn't have done. Mrs. Weasley took this post as her new mission in life and seemed to outthink the twins at every turn; a feat that frustrated them, but impressed the hell out of Harry.

As the holidays grew closer to ending, Harry noticed Sirius getting more and more distant and withdrawn, and so he had tried his even best to spend all the time possible with him, and his plan seemed to have some positive effect on the man. In previous lives Mrs. Weasley was always forcing them into cleaning, chores, and keeping them separate, but with her eviction from the kitchen by the coalition of elves, she was far too busy being paranoid about the twins devising something that would get past her screens. So, with the greater freedom allowed, Harry got to spend his time with Sirius learning of his parents; what they got up to at school, and various other tidbits of information that Harry had never known about in previous Shades. Of course no relationship with any of the Marauders would be complete without at least one prank, and Sirius was more than happy to encourage Harry's new-found desire to continue the family tradition. Though what followed was more than one prank, and quickly the pranks became more elaborate and sneaky as the twins competed with Sirius and Harry to cause the most havoc. Remus even joined in the little war on occasion creating a three way battlefield. Order members quickly learned to check everything and it didn't take long before everyone was as jumpy as Mad-Eye when visiting Headquarters. Hermione however had been ruthless trying to get Harry alone to talk to him. A feat he spent almost as much effort denying her. Thankfully Ron was moody about the way he felt Harry was treating him and commanded most of her time. That suited Harry just fine as he wasn't very happy with either of his friends. At this time he and Ginny weren't very close, not even decent friends so it was fairly easy to avoid her. Though when they crossed paths every now and then she would burn scarlet and flee. Just like old times.

At this moment Harry was thinking of things far removed from anything to do with pranks, chatting with Sirius and Remus or Weasleys, or avoiding people. At this moment Harry was looking over his plans for his assault on Azkaban. Plans weeks in the making.

The more time he spent working on his Occlumency and Mindscape the more pissed he was getting. That horcrux in him allowed a back door through his mental defenses, and every time Voldemort was feeling emotional it wrecked his landscape… again. Occlumency was worthless in defending him from these spikes. Unlike in prior Shades Harry was far more attuned to Riddles mind via the link this round. He figured it had to do with the fact he was not nearly as innocent as he was prior. In any event it was getting old, fast. Harry had decided that enough was enough and spent the last two weeks resting and planning in secret. The victim of his plan, he eventually decided, would be Dolohov; Riddles best mate from his school days, and a man who was currently serving life in Azkaban after Karkaroff named him as a Death Eater. He had the advantage of being someone Harry had already had planned to kill anyways, for crimes in this Shade and prior ones, and being in a known stationary location which meant easy access. Sort of.

Harry pulled every bit of knowledge of the last time he infiltrated Azkaban and planned accordingly. He felt bad that Sirius would be the one ending up vilified in the press about this whole break-in ordeal, but it was just a necessary evil. The way Harry figured it, Riddle was going to free his old chum in about six months anyway so it was better to just go in and get him now, when the bastard was defenseless… that and Harry wanted to send a message to Voldemort, as well as get some payback for Cedrics death. Taking out his best mate would make a good start and might make him rash and more prone to exposing himself before the Ministry Battle at the end of the year, which in all honesty Harry would rather avoid but planned to be ready for.

Shaking his head of the thoughts that were accumulating Harry looked over the plans strewn over the table in his bedroom. He planned to enter the same way he did last time. The secret of the Fidelius wasn't the only thing to travel with him. He had loads of memories from prior Shades being an animagus. He was happily surprised when he discovered he didn't have to go through the ritual or buy the potion ingredients again and go through the whole process. So he planned his attack by flying in using his animagus form, the goshawk, and entering through a window on the tenth floor of the east face because it was the only place that had a break in the outside wall large enough for his avian form to fit through. Once inside he'd have to navigate twisting, narrow passages; get past roving bands of Dementors, which he shouldn't defend against, and Aurors who he couldn't let see him, all the while making his way through twenty floors of the darkest, most vial keep the world had ever known; full of the most black hearted felons the magical community had to offer.

And then get out.

With his target.

Oorah.

The American Marine Corps cry was something he'd learned from his close association with Jake Granger, Hermione's father and fit quite well here. Jake didn't like to talk about his time in the Marine Corps, but even to this day those experiences showed themselves in his personality. Harry had taken to it like a duck to water, and it used to be a comradely thing between them last round.

After taking off the chain around his neck and opening up his Sorcerer's trunk he began pulling out the things he would need. He noted idly that Kreacher was standing at the door watching him while keeping guard to make sure no one came in and remembered Kreacher telling Dobby to stand guard on the other side when he first entered to finalize his plans.

As he had during his time as an assassin Harry dressed to make sure if he screwed up no one would be able to identify him. He kept to tighter clothes that wouldn't flap about or get in the way, and that were dyed in a very dark navy. He'd discovered in past Shades, particularly the fourth, that jet-black wasn't the best option; even shadows had some hint of light, and a block of solid black stuck out, surprisingly, like a sore thumb. The only piece of loose clothing on his body was his cloak, because you couldn't beat a good cloak to hide the shape of your form or create an illusion of greater body mass; an illusion that could save your life if the spell was shot slightly off. Such a mistake was likely if you were aiming at a moving target, and Harry liked to keep moving. Besides, Harry had access still to a few of minor shadow powers from his Fourth Shade, namely the ability to manipulate shadows to a minor extent. Another ability that for some reason also accompanied him. The power of the mind, and his memories, was something he had no scholarship in. Something for his Guild to research later if they had the time.

His entire head would be covered by a skin-tight hood made of Dragonhide; two jet-black patches resembling obsidian where his eyes would normally be; the entire construction having been created for him by the goblins, and with his prescription built into the eyepieces along with several enhancements, the darkness of Azkaban wouldn't be a problem. After a moment's checking over the sealing runes on the hood to prevent poisonous gas and such, Harry strapped his Asps to his thighs; thankful that he managed to get the time to enchant them as he wanted. He had covered the luminescent jewels with black electrical tape to prevent them from giving away his location if he needed to hide; he didn't want to be a walking taking advertisement for Christmas where he was going. In the small of his back he sheathed his ritual dagger and then strapped his clawed bracers to his arms and hands. Undar must have had one of his people do them because having the claws retract or spring into place was an improvement that he hadn't even thought of when he had ordered the contraptions. Harry's cedar wand rested in its holster strapped to the left side of his body while his right side had his Dessert Eagle safely in its holster under his arm, and three extra clips of ammunition were sitting tucked into the bandolier across his chest. The pistol wasn't his first choice of weapon, but it had the advantage of not being something he had to remake, and it packed a hell of a punch.

Harry took a few moments to clear his mind except for the task ahead. He told himself that this was the only way. In all prior Shades the Horcrux within him was destroyed by being hit by a killing curse, and always by Voldemort, but Harry wasn't willing to risk that occurrence happening again. There was the very real possibility that because of his knowledge of how it happened in the past it would disrupt the deep magics that surrounded those events _now_, and prevent them from taking place again. Harry didn't want this life, but he sure as hell wasn't willing to give it up so easily now that he did have it.

He didn't want to have to use such dark magics, as the ritual he had planned required, but his options were either that or wait and see if his theory on the killing curse would work for an _eighth_ time. He had to do something, and this was the only thing he could think of from all of his vast experiences that would work. To get the Horcrux out of him he had to cut it out, and the only way to do that without dying, since his body was its current vessel, was to perform the Ritual to _create_ one. Instead of damaging his own soul he would split Riddles fragment from himself and place that into a container. The Ritual, however, required a cold blooded Murder, and never in any of his lives had he intentionally harmed an innocent.

He was sure as hell not about to break with that tradition now.

He was fucked up, twisted, mental, but he drew the line at hurting innocent people and so he needed someone whom he could kill that no one would miss, and who he wouldn't have a problem with killing. From his prior memories Dolohov had hurt Hermione greatly, several times, and was responsible for Mrs. Weasley's brothers' deaths. He had hurt, tortured, raped, and murdered countless Muggles, and if he was freed by Voldemort he would continue to do those horrible things. This was not something that Harry was going to allow to happen. Dolohov was living on borrowed time, and Harry was calling the debt due tonight. Pissing all over Riddle's Cheerios by sending him Dolohov's head was just the icing on the cake. Riddle loved to inspire anger, hate, or fear in others, and unbeknownst to him he was about to get a spoonful of his own potion. _Let's see how you like it, you snake faced twat._

His mind cleared, and his determination cemented he lowered the hood over his face and neck; leaving him completely covered and looking positively murderous. Harry opened his eyes to look at Kreacher; his distorted voice ringing metallically in the room when he spoke. "Make sure everything is ready and run interference for me Kreacher. If everything goes well I should be back by sometime after midnight."

The wards around the old manor prevented Apparation into the property but not within it or out of it, and Harry took full use of this feature; spinning around on his heel and disappearing with a near-whispered pop.

"Good Luck, Master Harry…" Kreacher mournfully whispered to the empty room in front of him. "…Hurry home."

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The sound of Harry's appearance on the coast was lost to the howling of the wind surrounding the North Sea. Harry, for his part, looked hatefully into the dark storm that rolled over the vista before him. His time in the Auror Corps, both of them, included guard posts on the island. Back then Minister Kingsley had dismissed the Dementors from their posts as wardens and had instead recruited hundreds of Aurors to replace them. Regular rotating posts inside the prison and in the field were common, so Harry had the advantage of knowing the layout very well. Of course he was also an inmate once and knew what it was like now, and it gave him a new appreciation of what had been keeping the prisoners in as a warden. And then there was the fact that this wasn't his first time breaking in to kidnap Dolohov.

Harry transformed into his animagus form and took flight immediately; winging his way toward the island he couldn't see, but knew was there. His small bluish grey from darted ghostly through the storm tossed night lost to sight almost immediately. There was a special route one had to take to get safely to the dark keep; it was changed routinely to prevent anyone from being able to do what he was doing now in fact. The wards ranged a fair distance from the prison fortress, and all of them were designed to confuse, confound, and misdirect anyone trying to get to the island they were tasked with protecting. If trapped in them a person would roam about in a never ending maze of their own making; leaving them trapped with only what food and water they had, eventually, if not rescued by the Keeps Aurors in that endless sea they would die of thirst or starvation. Some of madness or of being snacked on by the occasionally far ranging Dementor. Unpleasant ways to go by any means.

Harry himself had rescued a few would-be jail breakers thinking they could beat the wards, and had found several he was too late to save. He was very aware of the wards effectiveness, but Harry planned to avoid this fate by sticking to the 'corridor' as it was called; that invisible pathway through the wards that only the Aurors knew because only they had the Gate Key. Harry, however, knew of a way around that particular problem that no one else had figured it out in _any_ of his Shades, at least to his knowledge.

It started with birds.

Birds it seemed to possess a natural inner compass, or at least had some kind magnetic sense. Harry didn't really understand it, but then again neither did anyone else when he had researched it back in his Fourth Shade. That inner sense would get fuzzy or confused when he was close to the boundaries of the Corridor, and so by that sense alone Harry knew all he had to do was correct his flight until it read true once more and the distortion to his senses disappeared. The wards used to protect the prison really were the best and were designed to prevent everything from owls to House Elves form gaining entry unless you had the Gate Key, and as he winged through the opening of the Wards and into The Corridor Harry thought that whoever laid down the anti-bird wards never thought one would be intelligent enough to figure this little exploit out. Especially considering how extremely rare flying animagus's were. He the first one since Morgan la Fey.

Harry flew his way through the torturous passage; moving under and over white capped waves and turbulent winds, and only after nearly an hour of flying could he finally wing his way up to his planned entrance. There were many windows all over the huge, ancient prison; all barred and warded to prevent anything but cold air, water, or dust motes entry, but Harry stayed away from the windows as he flew around the structure for several minutes to avoid giving himself away. After finding the particular hole he was looking for he squeezed through with only a few ruffled feathers.

And just like that, he was in.

Harry transformed back to his human self; looking around through the goggles in his hood and around the prison that seemed swathed in sunlight because of the goblin enhancements. He chose to not use his avian form inside the walls because it would draw far too much attention, but then again any flying thing that wasn't a Dementor would.

Through the slimy moldy stone corridor Harry stalked; his cloak billowing regally around him and his footsteps silent. He stayed away from the infrequent torches that burned on the walls; keeping to the shadows where his form was at the very least distorted by the inky blackness and his own manipulations. He passed several cells where men and women cried, cursed, or whimpered, but Harry paid them no mind; keeping his senses sharp and stretched out to their limits though the shadows in order to detect any approaching Dementors or Aurors. Another minor shadow power he still possessed, and handy as hell at the moment. It took him half an hour before he was starting to get close to his target.

Harry quickly retreated around the corner he had just passed when he spotted a pair of Aurors walking patrol, and quickly slinked against the wall between two columns; swathing his form in shadows. He pulled one of the batons from its sheath slowly as the two men came into sight.

"…can't believe it either. Kids got stones if nothing else. Me da' told me all about it last week," stated one of them with an Irish accent. Harry kept still, watching them pass right by him.

"I don't see what it matters to us. Just do your…" the unknown wizard stated before Harry rendered him unconscious with one of the Asps. Harry brought it down on the back of the Wizard's head, cutting off what he was saying, and before he even started falling Harry jumped onto the next one; putting his razor-sharp fingers over the Auror's throat.

Harry synthesized voice spoke close to the man's ear, "I am going to remove my hand from your throat. When I do I am going to ask you a few questions. If the questions are not answered, or you so much as twitch, I will place my hand back to your throat. When I remove it next I will be holding your esophagus before your eyes. Is there any part of this that is not clear? Shake your head or nod."

The wizard shook his head as far as he was allowed to by Harry's grip. He loosened his grip allowing the man below him to draw in a shuttering breath.

Harry spoke again with that chilling metallic voice. "How many guards in the next cellblock?"

"None," the sacred man answered.

"Dementors?"

"Twelve; one per cell…"

"Good night," Harry stated before bringing the butt of the Asp onto the back of the man's head, rendering him unconscious. Harry left the bodies in the shadows where he had previously been hiding and moved into the next block. The wrought iron door squealed harshly with age, and Harry winced as it echoed down the corridor. The chill that hit him was familiar and unpleasant; he hated Dementors with a deep seeded passion. He'd never understood how Sirius managed to survive here for years; his three month stint almost broke him.

Harry stood in the doorway, sheathing the Asp and drawing his wand and pistol. He could feel the cold fingers of the dark creatures' aura starting to seep into him, and it was this was the part of the plan he knew was going to be the hardest. As he looked down the corridor there was just no way to walk past any of them without getting caught in their effects. It was a struggle to hold onto his mind where he was.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ Harry shouted. His stag patronus erupted from the tip of the cedar wand and charged ahead; clearing the block of Dementors. Harry didn't move until the stag returned.

He reached up and petted the silvery stag, "Good Work." The ghostly emanation faded away quickly. In the distance Harry could hear the sounds of feet running toward him and the Klaxons sounding the alarm.

"Fuck it." The alarm was rang quicker than he hoped it would but there was no going back now. He flicked his wand at the door locking it tight before he turned back to the row of cells. Harry walked to the first cell looking inside but didn't recognize the huddled figure, and he found that he didn't recognize anyone until he passed by the fifth cell.

"Rodolphus Lestrange…"

The figure in the cell turned hatefully to him; dark eyes glaring into Harry's obsidian coverings. "Who are you?"

Harry remained silent and watched the man struggle for a moment before he started approaching the cell doors that separated them. His mind overwhelmed by memories of prior encounters and knowledge from many lives blazing through his mind. "Free us… we can reward you beyond your wildest dreams!" the ragged man offered.

"You wish to be free?" Harry asked emotionlessly.

The man nodded quickly; sending his unkempt rats-nest hair bouncing about his head. Harry raised the pistol and pulled the trigger; sending its loud report echoing throughout the cell block. Lestrange's head rocked back, and the wall behind him was instantly painted with reds and greys.

"You son of a Bitch! When the Dark Lord comes back you are going to die! You, your family, your friends, anyone who has ever met you will Die! You hear me!" Harry tuned slowly to the sounds being made by the other Lestrange Brother.

"You first," Harry stated while pulling the trigger again.

His time was limited so he started making his way quickly forward while shooting any Death Eater he saw. It got easier with each pull of the trigger, as he knew it would. Killing was not exactly new to him and these people needed killing. It would be the lest of his crimes before the night was over, and the most Light. The cell block was filled with his gunfire; the screams of panic from the inmates; and the dying. Harry walked right through it as emotionless and uncaring as any of them when they murdered muggles until he finally found who he was looking for in the next to last cell.

He put away the pistol, pulling the Asp back out, but this time activating the rune that controlled enchantment he had inscribed onto it. The enchantment wasn't very difficult or very special; it was used by people who did not want their things messed with. The original spell was called 'Weighty Chest' and it did pretty much what the name suggested. The enchanted item's weight increased greatly depending on different variables, variables that generally relied on where, who, and how many were touching the item in question when the enchantment was laid. The combined body weight of every living thing touching the item was combined into the item, and it affected everyone and anything but the one, or ones, keyed to it. For Harry it was Sirius, the Twins, and Remus. Harry had arranged for Sirius to do the enchantment so no one would suspect him of being able to do magic, but either way the effect was the same. It was sadly easy to con the old con into doing it, and not knowing what exactly he was doing it to thinking he was just exhibiting it as a prank idea. There would be nothing funny however to anyone Harry hit with the foldable club. The weight behind it would make feel like they got hit by a Volkswagen. Funnily enough that was what Harry named the modified spell, 'Volkswagen'.

The best part was to Harry it only weighed a pound.

Harry swung down, shattering the lock on the cell and allowing him to open up the door. "We have a party to get to Dolohov, and you are the guest of Honor."

"Do you have any idea WHO I am? Do you know what will happen to you when the Dark Lord hears of this?"

Harry strode forward with little delay while sending an overpowered banisher from the cedar wand into the Death Eater before him. He watched dispassionately as his body impacted into the wall, rending the raging man silent. Harry strode forward, pulling the chain from around his neck as he did so, and once the trunk attached to it reached full size Harry opened it to one of the empty sections before throwing Dolohov inside. Closing the trunk and shrinking it once again Harry placed it around his neck tucking it back into his clothes. He moved out of the cell; intending to finish the others in the next cell block or two when at the moment he stepped from the cell the door on the opposite end of the hall burst open to reveal a cadre of Aurors on the other side.

"You there, Freeze!" one of them shouted.

"Time to go!" Harry exclaimed amongst their cries of 'Stop' or 'Halt'.

Harry threw up the strongest shield he could to delay them before turning to the cell wall and casting one of his family's spells. "_Amner OR!"_

The great force of the spell caused the wall to explode outward in a shower of fragments which joined the downpour outside, and it was into this rain Harry jumped; quickly transforming but still plummeting all the way to the bottom. It wasn't until the last possible second he extended his wings and skimmed the rough waters below him, and using the surf as cover he winged away with his prize.

The wards were trained to keep things from getting close to the prison, but there was nothing to prevent them from leaving once a hundred yards away from the walls and so Harry flew as fast as he could. Once he made landfall in the same place he had first appeared he disapparated back to Grimmauld Place where Kreacher was waiting for him. He appeared in the plaza across from Grimmauld place and the elf quickly jumped them to the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry pulled the hood off his head and looked at the ritual circle that was sitting in the center of the Chamber. "Everything is ready?"

"Yes," croaked the old elf.

Harry nodded and then gave the small creature an inquiring look, "Anyone know I am gone yet?"

"No Master; Dobby is following instructions very well and has let no one in to your room. We have told the people who asked that you did not feel well and are resting."

"Thank you Kreacher. I'll call you when I am done. You don't want to see this."

"Very good Master," bowed the elf, and he quickly vanished with a crack.

Harry pulled the trunk out again, and opened it to retrieve Dolohov. He pulled the man from the trunk and dragged him over to the circle before binding him in the appropriate places, and after he was finished Harry picked up the common hand mirror he had Kreacher purchase earlier that day. He placed it in the correct position in the circle before taking his own. He raised his wand and enervated Dolohov. Harry didn't want to, but it was necessary for the Ritual.

The bound and gagged man watched horrified as Harry Potter was revealed to him to be his abductor while Harry waved the Cedar wand chanting out the long series of words flawlessly. Harry ignored the struggling man's attempts to get free; he ignored the silent curses thrown his way; and the pleading in his eyes - Harry concentrated only on his hatred of the man before him; hatred for the things he had done or would do. It took an hour of chanting before he reached the crescendo and cast the killing curse.

The soft green glow of the curse rebounded on him from Dolohov's body and suddenly his entire focus of the world was Black, White and Pain. He looked down into his chest; seeing the soft bluish white of his own soul, and attached to it like a parasite the ugly red of Voldemort's. Harry slowly raised his wand, directing the energy of the Killing curse like a surgeon's scalpel, and slowly sliced the offending soul away; making absolutely sure to cut it precisely so that not even the faintest residue was connected to his own pure energy while making sure not to cut his own. It seemed to take him hours to complete fighting past the agony of the magics he had invoked. When he was done the red soul fragment was attached to his wand, and not a shred of it was on his own. If he could have Harry would've breathed a sigh of thankfulness for having dabbled in the Dark Arts, namely Rituals, in one of his prior Shades. They were memories and events he wasn't proud of, but the knowledge had just saved his life.

Carefully Harry lowered the red soul fragment into the mirror and watched it attach itself to the item and the binding wards that Harry had enchanted. Once the fragment was sucked off his wand and sealed his world returned to normal and his body collapsed from the strain of what he had just achieved. He could feel the seductive pleasure that rushed through him, almost orgasmic in its intensity, as the dark magic coursed through his veins. For just a moment he felt as he did in his fourth run after completing one of his rituals. Harry enjoyed it almost as much as he was disgusted by it.

He lay in a heap, panting heavily but after several minutes gathering himself he turned to look at the mirror. He could feel its tainted presence reaching out to him, and growled at the compulsion before pulling himself to his knees and picking up the baslisk fang that Kreacher set aside just for this. With just about the last of his strength Harry plunged the tooth into the mirror; shattering it and sending the fourth piece of Riddle into the void.

"Kreacher," Harry called weakly.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.

**Shout Out!** A great story to read if any are interested is Parallels by Bobmin356. An old story but one I've reread many times. Also an inspiration to this particular story.


	11. Breaking Point

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 10, Breaking Point **

'_I'd gotten so use to killing the line between friend and foe was getting blurred…_

_Then again, using the Dark Arts no matter the reason will do that to you.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry turned to look at the face of the old grandfather clock in the library with weary eyes. It was three in the morning. Sitting on the table in front of him was half a bottle of the strongest bottle of whiskey Kreacher could find, his tumbler, a half-full ashtray, and a pack of Luckies. Harry himself was leaning back in his chair completely numb; not just from what he drank, but what he had done. No matter his reasons why he had to do the ritual, he still did it and his emotional turmoil was taking its toll on him. It had felt so _right_ during the ritual, like all the times before during his fourth Shade. He knew it was wrong, but it didn't help him combat the feelings of how right it was. The pain, the pleasure, the _power._ It would be so easy to pick up where he left off during that Shade… He was intact now he could go soo much further.

Images of all the good people he had ever known ghosted through his mind. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He knew what would happen if he became lost again. He remembered what he had become then. Harry knew there would be no going back for him if he walked that path again. Still didn't help him deal with the turmoil, so he struggled internally for what seemed like an eternity in the dark listening to the sounds of the fire burning merrily in the grate, the sound of ice in his glass rattling each time he took a drink, smelling the scents that only old books could emanate mingling with a slight hint of blood. It was always messy when you cut off someones head. Unlike poor Nearly Headless Nick, Dolohov would have no trouble joining the headless hunt. If Riddle wasn't staying at Malfoy Manor, he was still pretty confident that Lucius pass on his message. It's not every day you wake up and find a head staked out on your front lawn. Harry just hoped those wretched peacocks left it alone till morning. It would ruin the impact otherwise.

The last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone, however like most things in this life of his Harry rarely got what he wanted. He heard the library door slowly ease open and close, and a moment after that soft footsteps walking toward him. Harry didn't bother to check to see who it was; there was only one person in the world that walked like that, and who would even consider visiting the library at three in the morning.

"Hello Hermione," Harry's dead voice softly greeted.

Harry watched as she came out from behind the stacks and slowly made her way to him. Her eyes told him of her concern, but her body posture was knotted as if she was fighting very hard to contain herself. Considering he'd been avoiding her for the last two weeks he wasn't surprised. Hermione couldn't see Harry who was sitting in the shadows offered by the window, but he followed her progress from there; the merrily burning fireplace deepening the darkness in Harry's cubby.

When she spoke her voice rang of a forced calm. "Hello Harry."

There followed an awkward silence broken by Harry's exhale of smoke and the strange clinking of metal against his glass after he set it down after taking a drink. Hermione spoke after several seconds of it becoming obvious that Harry's speech was not going to be overly forthcoming. "We need to talk."

Harry immediately replied in his half dead drone, "No, we don't."

Harry took disinterested note of Hermione's eyes narrowing and her posture changing; her muscles tensing and her arms coming to cross just under her breasts; her expression tightening and becoming sterner. If Harry wasn't as irritated as he was at that moment, he would have found it rather amusing. "We are going to talk."

"This is not a good time for _that_ talk Hermione; I've had a rough day."

"Harry James Potter you are going to talk to me, tonight, right now!"

"Let this go until tomorrow Hermione," he murmured, and had she been paying close attention she would have heard the barely veiled warning in his tone.

Hermione's frustration over Harry's dismissal however clouded her thinking and deductive reasoning, and so she said quite primly, "So help me Harry I'll hex you if you do not talk to me about this…"

She squeaked when Harry suddenly lunged out of the shadows, and her eyes widened in horror when she felt the cold metal searing against her skin as if it was a brand. Harry's rushed movement coupled with her backpedaling forced her back to the wall, and Harry well inside her personal space; his face mere inches from hers. Hermione's complexion paled even more when she realized that the piece of metal pressing firmly into her lower jaw was actually a pistol, and judging by the feel of it against her neck it was a rather large one to boot. The smell of drying blood impacting her senses only adding to her terror.

"It takes three pounds of pressure," he growled lowly as he glared into her terrified eyes, "two muscles, and one, single, conscious thought to pull this trigger. My doing so will ignite a three hundred grain repository of gunpowder, and this will give the forty four caliber bullet enough kinetic energy to exit the muzzle at one thousand five hundred and eighty feet per second… directly into the soft tissue under your jaw, and into your brain. The bullet will exit the top of your skull; spraying blood, bone, and brain-matter over the walls and ceiling. You need to be careful who you threaten Hermione, because you're way off the map. Here, there be Monsters…"

He couldn't see his own face, but to Hermione his eyes almost seemed to burn as he started at her. His body posture screamed aggression; from the way his hair seemed to waif around by some unseen breeze, to the fire in his dark jade eyes, and perhaps most notably his tightly coiled muscles. Harry stood there holding the gun to the underside of her chin for quite some time before he slowly, as if he was struggling greatly to comply with an unspoken demand, moved away from her and tossing the loaded pistol onto the table. When he finally stopped moving he stood leaning against the fireplace mantel, at last allowing the light to drive away the shadows he was unconsciously manipulating that covered his face and body, allowing Hermione her first clear look at him since entering.

Harry was still dressed as he was from earlier, minus his hood that had clung to his face. Hermione's eyes tracked from his booted feet to the bars strapped to his upper thighs, the bracers that were wrapped around each arm, then her inspection finally ended when she saw the leather weapons kit that was strapped to his chest. The blood she smelt stained parts of his arms and was splattered on his chest. Hermione stood silently for some time before she tried again to talk to him. "Goodness Harry, you look dreadful. Very scary mind you, but dreadful." Her voice slightly shaking from his sudden attack on her but bravely moving forward.

"That…would not be an inaccurate assumption of how I feel," he replied jerkily.

"I… we really need to talk. The way you've been acting, the way you're dressed, this isn't like you…"

Harry was very much still lost to his rage despite the small distance he put between them, and although he had his body under control so that he wouldn't attack, his entire countenance was incredibly hostile. "You want to talk Hermione? You want to talk? _Fine,_" Harry practically hissed the last word through his clenched teeth.

He ignored the girl's frightened expression and pulled his wand, making her flinch. For twenty seconds Harry waved his wand about him; slowly building up the power he needed for the ward he wished to erect. With a quick jerk and slight twist of his wand a burst of blackish distortion that had been gathering about him rushed forth to cling to the walls, ceiling, windows, doors, and floors. Hermione yipped as it passed around her and shivered from the cold it wrought through her entire being. All around them the library was sealed in distorted, almost sentient-seeming blackness.

Harry brought his frigid stare to the very frightened girl in front of him; his gaze burning into hers. "So, let's talk then…"

"Harry… what did you do…" Hermione's quietly asked.

"You wanted to talk, so I cast a privacy ward," he answered lowly, examining her as if she was a very young child.

"That didn't feel like any privacy ward I have ever done Harry."

His chuckle caused her to shiver again. "That wouldn't surprise me; it's only used by Aurors who seal the cells at Azkaban when a prisoner gets too disruptive. Of course, if you're anybody but the Warden and you're caught doing it, it will get you put in that same cell for a month. It seals everything; noise, vibration, all manner of light waves, magic, you name it, this room is _sealed_. Get too close to _any_ of the exits in this room and you'll find yourself landed with a _very_ _nasty _surprise," Harry sneered evilly. "Try to open any of them and it gets even more interesting. I know; I've been on both sides of it several times." His smirk turned into a snarl, and she took an involuntary step backwards at his menacing expression. "Now what the _fuck_ do you want to talk about that can't possibly wait until tomorrow morning!"

Hermione gathered her courage, and surprisingly gained enough to actually hiss back at him, "THIS! This attitude you have! You walk around not talking to anyone unless you're having a laugh at their expense; you're not trusting anyone, even ME with what you are doing. For God's sake Harry, you've knocked out two of your friends and just held a gun to my head! Do I even need to mention the blood? What is going on with you Harry?"

Harry stepped towards her, forcing her to back up a step to counter his advance. "What gives you the right to ask, no, demand anything of me after what you've done! You walk around with your high and mighty morals and ethics judging ME!"

"What could I have possibly done to you Harry?"

"What HAVEN'T YOU DONE? My fucking God where do I begin?" Half drunk and already overwhelmed with what he'd had to do earlier Harry could feel he was at his most volatile. He had been trying to come to terms with Hermione and dealing with all of his past Shades but she kept ambushing him trying to get him to talk her; she just _had_ to keep pushing, just _had_ to invade his privacy, just _had_ to _know_… and he was sick of it. _I should have just shot her…_

Harry pointed his finger at Hermione. "You sent be back here! AGAIN!" Harry accused raging.

"What? Again? What…"

Harry turned away from her; placing his hand on the wall and letting the freezing chill of the wards to help calm him down while looking unseeingly out the window. "I didn't want to be here… I was supposed to be dead… but no: Hermione Granger knows what is best for everyone. Hermione Granger knows how to fix everything because she knows everything…"

"Why would you do that to me Hermione?" Harry turned to look but her baffled confused look did not seem to register to him. "The one time I thought you died it never occurred to me to bring you back. I did everything I could before I had to summon Legion because I didn't want to bring you back against your will. Even then I never fought you when you did find me. I don't know what that says for how I feel about you or if maybe it had something to do with my respect for you. I never feared death itself -resented it a few times but never feared it. Everyone dies, or at least they are supposed to. We've had that conversation a few times in various Shades so I know you know what I am talking about…"

"Harry, perhaps we should get Professor Dumbledore. He could help you with whatever you're going through…"

She was trying to be helpful, and so Hermione was stunned when Harry started laughing in response to her suggestion. It wasn't the laugh she was used to, it was mocking and cold. Harry didn't pay any attention to her sputtering. "You are so _adamant_ in respecting and following authority figures no matter what your eyes tell you, aren't you? _So_ full of belief they will take care of us like they are supposed to, but what have they done? It was two eleven and one twelve year old kids who protected the Stone. You do remember when we went to McGonagall don't you?"

"Be reasonable Harry," she countered, "how was she supposed to know it was anything more than just a couple of kids jumping to conclusions?"

"If we were intelligent enough to figure out the stone was there then she might have wondered what else we knew - but okay, I'll give you that one. Dumbledore being gone was just him getting out played so I'll pass on that, and you know what? I'll not even mention the jokes they made for the traps they left to guard the damn thing.

Remember what you told me later after I got out of Hospital? You said Dumbledore found you dragging Ron to the Hospital Wing. He asked you a question. Remember what it was?"

In a quiet voice that she hoped wouldn't enrage him anymore she answered, "Harry has already gone after it, hasn't he?"

Harry chuckled mirthlessly; his eyes cold like chips of ice. "Makes you all warm and fuzzy don't it, eh 'Mione? He _knew_ that we knew, and let it happen anyways. I wonder if the traps weren't more than some kind of bizarre test to see what I would do, not really meant to guard the stone. It would make sense with the way Quill blew through it. Then again looking back I can think of at least a dozen ways we could have gotten past them without harm to any of us or playing by the rules the traps laid down."

He could see her about to interrupt his observations but cut her off immediately. He didn't know whether or not it was just his vindictive side coming out to play; to tear down all of what she had always believed, or whether it was in the hope that by laying before her the mountain of evidence he had against authority it would break her from her bad habit and he'd have his best friend back. "What about the Chamber then?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, "You figured out it was a basilisk moving around the pipes, and you were what, thirteen? The teachers, whom altogether totaled hundreds of years of experience, found nothing except for the victims left in the beast's wake. Hell 'Mione, Dumbledore had a hundred years of experience and knowledge over you by himself, and yet it was you, barely a slip of a girl, to figure out what the beast was with the same evidence everyone else had."

"That's not true Harry," she protested, but much to his delight he could hear the uncertainty in her tone. "You told us that you heard something talking behind the walls. The teachers wouldn't have known that!"

"You think the Portraits wouldn't have told them about that? Think about this Hermione, how many hallways in Hogwarts don't have Portraits?" When she couldn't answer Harry nodded in satisfaction, "They all report to the prior Headmaster Portraits who then tell the Headmaster. It's one of the ways the teachers can keep track of so many hormonal teenagers in a great castle full of hidden cubbies with only minimal staffing - otherwise half the girls over fourteen would be pregnant while the other half would be working on it. Not to mention the possibilities of rapes, assaults, and other nasty things.

"I'll pass over our third year because I think that had more to do with Sirius's skills than any failure on our teacher's part. Still it is rather frightening to think that an escape convict could roam all over the grounds and castle with teachers and half the Dementors of Azkaban on the watch. So let's look at Fourth Year now, shall we? You remember me telling you about Crouch Sr. in the Forbidden Forest? I got to thinking, considering that Crouch Jr was Polyjuiced as Mad-Eye since before Term started; I bet they had his arse since then under the Imperious. Dumbledore asked Crouch Senior if there was any way to get me out but he said no; that the rules were clear on the matter. It was during the wait before the second task I found the reference that talked about the escape clause for Houses with only one Heir, or Houses in Ascension. I'd lay very respectful odds Dumbledore found out about the Crouches before the term started and let it play out Hermione, and don't you dare deny it." Her opening mouth quickly snapped shut at his glare and hiss in his voice, and he nodded sharply when he saw that she wasn't going to interrupt again.

"I got thrown to the wolves; a proverbial bleeding goat if you will, just so Dumbledore could find out what Voldemort's game was. He looked very pleased when he found out Voldemort used my blood for the Ritual you know; he knows a lot of what is going on and is playing his own game - a game, mind you, that I know is going to get me killed unless I change the rules." He looked at her incredulously, "And after all that you expect me to trust Dumbledore with anything important? No thank you. With Voldemort on the loose I don't need any help getting killed." Harry chuckled darkly to himself and leant his back against the wall with a bitter expression on his face. "That's one thing I never had much trouble with actually… one thing I plan to change drastically this round. It's not my job to jump feet first into hell anymore, just to make sure it's crowded when I get there."

Hermione felt her breath coming in hard fought for gasps; her eyes wide as she listened to Harry and put together the pieces of the puzzle, but she was praying she was wrong; it did explain everything however. Being wrong was not something she ever hoped for in the past, but she desperately prayed for it now. She knew she wasn't though; there were just too many things that didn't add up unless a person knew what she did. "How bad was it?" she asked in a small voice.

Harry finally turned to look at her, and she knew just by looking into his eyes that Harry knew exactly what she was asking. His voice was rough when he answered her, and the words he spoke made her heart clench painfully. "Which time?"

"Which… No, oh God no, I did it more than once?"

"A few, yeah," he admitted with a growl, "I only remember you doing it twice. Pretty sure you're the one who did the others though, because I never heard of anything else like it in any Shade."

Harry watched as she sat down weakly and made no move to approach her. He could hear her clearly even when she raised her hands to cover her face. "Saints preserve us, what have I done?" Harry watched, almost amused by her reactions. Her eyes shined sorrowfully between her fingers. "How many times Harry?"

"Seven that I can remember. It's possible the first time may have been done a few or something. That one's pretty fuzzy but I remember the last six pretty clearly."

Hermione moaned as if in pain. "I must have thought I had compensated for the Ouroboros Theory. I haven't gotten that far yet."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Care to explain that one to the lab rat here?"

Hermione's head ducked further into her hands, but he heard her when she started talking. "The Ouroboros Theory is a theory in Time Travel that states that if it was ever achieved it would create a loop in time from the point of the event to the target point. This happens because the mistake the sender wishes to correct just keeps happening. The cycle is unbreakable; the target would just keep doing it over and over. It's one of the reasons Time Travel is forbidden. It ends the time line by creating an endless loop that can't be broken."

Harry nodded slowly. That sounded like what he'd been through. "I take it this is something unique with the tactic you used for me by sending memories instead of body's and souls?"

Hermione smiled weakly at Harry's knowledge, happy she didn't have to explain everything, and that he was at least somewhat following. "Yes. If you sent the soul you create a double entity in the body of the target which, in theory, would cause either one or the other to cease their existence: the Gemini Effect by another name. Joinings have been theorized but there is a serious risk of instability, insanity, or death - sort of defeated the point if I used that method. Physical transportation is doable, like the Time Tuners, but the mass to energy ratio scale is so exponential I would have needed to convert the entire planet into a battery to power it. It's not only impossible, but even if it was possible it just couldn't be done by a small group of people, which is all I figured I would have if I had anyone at all.

"This is why I settled on sending memories back. Mass to energy ratios are in my personal abilities without the debilitating side effects to the target body, plus there was always the thought that the person whose memories I'd be sending back would have been near death or hurt in a way that couldn't be cured, but the memory sending would negate that if I could hit the right time. The only problem was the Ouroboros Theory. I had just decided a few weeks ago to change the format of the spell into a ritual in order to help compensate for some of the more tricky elements, but didn't get much further than that."

"Ahh," Harry said mockingly, "so basically you don't know how the other Hermiones fucked up then?"

That got a reaction from her. She raised her head in indignation before she deflated when she saw the state of him once more; tired, wary, and with eyes that held pain and emotions that one his age should not possess – that nobody should possess. "Yes, I guess we did. I did. She…well they…curses, how do you keep this all straight?" she asked, flustered.

Harry held up the tumbler he just finished filling with a slight smirk, "Now you know why I drink. Well, one of the reasons." He knocked back a large dram to make his point.

Hermione stood from the chair she had collapsed into and walked over to Harry; standing in front of him with a serious expression on her face. "Okay Harry. I admit that when I first started this project it was solely with the thought that if something happened and it was bad enough we would use it to make things better. If I ever got it to work, of course. I also knew that I might have done this already and I had to keep my eye out for signs, and judging from how you are acting things must have been pretty bad, but Harry, you're not alone. Talk to me. It'll help. I can help."

Harry felt his shoulders sag a bit, and when he spoke his voice was a near whisper and filled with anguish and age. "About what Hermione? About the friends I lost? The loves? The children I no longer have? Do you want to know who died and how many times and in what ways? Do you really want to know about how many people I've killed or how? The Second Shade didn't divert much from the first but they started getting crazy after that. I don't know who or what you think I am but the Harry you knew is dead; died a long time ago, and this broken old bastard is all that's left," he said, motioning to his body with venom written all over his face.

Hermione's eyes were very compassionate when she slowly embraced him, and she felt him tense in her arms. "You are in there Harry. Somewhere, I know that _you_ are in there. I understand enough now, so share it with me Harry. I won't judge you, I won't hate you. I…I'm responsible for what's happened to you. Let me help you."

She held him tight while Harry stood stone still, and it felt like hours that she stood there with Harry in her arms with no response, but slowly, very slowly she felt him start to tremble. She felt her heart break at the shudders that ran through his frame, and when the dam broke she was dragged to her knees by the sobbing, broken man in her embrace.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.

**Shout Out!** A great story to read if any are interested is Parallels by Bobmin356. An old story but one I've reread many times. Also an inspiration to this particular story.


	12. Turning Point

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 11, Turning Point**

'_Even to this day I am conflicted about that morning. The only thing I can say about it is I am glad I didn't shoot her the night before.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry woke slowly. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it felt really late, or early depending on a person's concept of time. He felt the weight of the comforters as well as something else, and it was that something else that snapped his brain into overdrive. Last night's events came back to him, somewhat, and he lay there drifting in his thoughts and memories. He'd had a lot to drink, not to mention the exhaustion following the confession, and after that things started to get pretty darn fuzzy. He remembered Hermione holding him while he cried, but everything faded to black not long after.

The unknown weight moaned while a bare arm slipped over his chest, and he could now feel the warm body tucked into his side. Harry processed the feeling of the shear slip of fabric being the only thing separating him from that warm body's assets, and when a leg that didn't belong to him slid up his own he suddenly became very aware of his 'morning' condition. As her leg slid to a stop he knew his bed partner would be aware of it soon as well. He moved his mind away from his hormonal desires to how much lighter he felt after his confession to Hermione. Her acceptance, it never occurred to him how much of a load he was carrying until they talked the prior night and now he felt lightened by their talk and oddly peaceful. Harry cracked an eye open to find a mass of brunette hair obscuring his vision, and Harry continued to watch the top of her head while listening to her light purr. He almost chuckled having almost forgot that she did that when she slept after the Polyjuice incident of their second year. A slow glance to the window showed that it was way earlier than he would have expected after the night before.

He slowly turned his head to Hermione when he felt her body stiffen. She was awake. "Morning Hermione." His voice was raw from the long night of talking and yelling.

Very slowly she raised her head, showing Harry a deeply blushing face and he watched as her eyes tracked from one of his to the other rapidly. The whites of her eyes were a bit bloodshot and Harry wondered if he'd somehow got her drinking last night with him. "M…morning Harry." They stayed that way for some time until she blushed an even deeper red and looked around the room they were in; his room. He was very thankful the elves, whom were the only ones who would have put them in the same bed after they were found, put them to bed somewhat clothed. Even if those clothes were only a slip and knickers for her and sweat bottoms for him.

Hermione blinked at him but didn't show any further reactions as they continued stare into each other's eyes. "I've never woken up in bed with a person in it before. However, this isn't the first time you've woken next to someone like this, is it Harry?"

Again Harry slowly shook his head trying his best to keep his voice the same as hers. There was still a slight quaver to it however, and she picked up on it immediately. "No."

"We didn't do anything last night Harry," she assured him, "I'm not sure how much you remember…" Hermione kept looking into his eyes, still not showing any emotion. "We have done…things before though haven't we? You and other Hermione's?"

"Why are you asking me these questions?" he questioned with a frown, "I mean, it's already pretty awkward as it is, and you're asking if we've been lovers in my other Shades… it's like asking me about other women I've slept with while we're having sex. It's…well awkward doesn't really cover it, but it's all I can think of at the moment."

"I…just wanted to know. Harry…" Hermione's breath hitched but she continued after a moment. "Um,…" Harry felt his stomach clench fiercely when she started tracing some of the scars on his chest. "Last night I realized…well, you know me Harry. Better than anyone, better than I think I know myself. You, well, we've…I mean… you've gotten close to other me's; you know things that you've learned from other me's and that means you know a lot of personal things about me. So… well I feel really close to you, but I don't know you at all anymore. So, well, I won't unless I ask questions."

"Be careful what you ask Hermione," he warned, "I…know, and I've done things that might make you regret the asking."

"You won't lie to me will you?"

"I…" he trailed off as he looked deep into her mesmerizing brown eyes and then let out a deep sigh. "No, no I won't lie, but I might not answer the question."

"Please…" Hermione kept looking into his eyes pleading, and he cursed himself when he felt his resistance to her will crumble.

He nodded unable to say anything but it was good enough for her. "We've… Have we been lovers?"

Harry nodded. "Once. Second Shade for a short time."

"Tell me."

Harry blew out a long breath and rolled over slightly to look at the ceiling. "It was in '97," Harry could tell by her raised eyebrow she felt the awkwardness of his statement. After all, he was talking about his past in a year that had yet to pass. "…but we weren't going to Hogwarts. Dumbledore was dead and I had a mission to do. You, Ron, and I were on the run. Voldemort took the Ministry that summer and we'd been living in a magical tent for over four months I think. Might have been shorter, I really don't remember a lot of the day to day." She nodded for him to continue and he sighed again. "We had this…one item, and it'd been affecting us. It hit Ron the worst, and after a while he snapped. We had just discovered what we needed to destroy it, but didn't have any way to get it and he started raging. He and I got in a fight and he left us."

"Ron left us alone, in the wild, while we were running for our lives fighting Voldemort, because of a fight?" she asked, her face conveying her shock, and he nodded with a frown.

"It… well it was pretty bad. Anyways he left and we continued for a while. We got closer; talked a lot at first when the shock wore off. It all changed one night." She watched his eyes glaze over as the memory took hold in his mind and listened with rapt attention to his words. "It was cold, sometime in December before Christmas if I remember right. We didn't exactly have a calendar with us but I remember when we were at Goldrics Hollow it was Christmas Day or around there. We were hurting for different reasons; mostly we were alone in a world that was out to kill us. We had this mission that was going nowhere and it was just us; no one to help us; no one who knew anything about what we were doing except Ron, and he'd ran away, and we both knew that if we failed then it'd all fall on him, who was God knew where… and with how he was it was doubtful he'd finish what we started. We were sharing a bed for warmth as it was hella cold, not an uncommon occurrence mind you as it was a particularly nasty winter that year, and we were breaking inside when our talking suddenly stopped and our faces were really close. Not to different from right now. The kiss… it's something I will never forget. That night we made love fueled by our desperation, depression, and hopelessness." Harry unconsciously raised his hand and gingered the teeth marks on his shoulder. He remembered very clearly when she bit into him the first time he entered her. And the understanding words he uttered to her when she tried to apologies for it. "We clung to each other in a way I can honestly say I have never experienced again in any Shade. It gave us the will to keep going, but it ended when Ron came back. After the war was over we talked and you chose…not to continue."

"Why would we not continue Harry? What aren't you telling me?"

"You... chose Ron," he bit out, and she could hear the pain and hurt in his voice; her own heart clenching at what she had put him through, as if she hadn't done enough already she had had to go and break her Harry's heart for an insulting, annoying, petty boy that had nearly gotten her killed in her first year at Hogwarts. "You guys sort of had this on and off thing. Nothing serious but…well he was really into you by then. You never told me the reasons why… just that you wanted to stop what we had. By the time we had that conversation it'd been months since the last time we… been together. It was your choice so by mutual agreement we pretended it didn't happen, and years went by that way. It was only brought up once when Ron blabbed about something which you didn't belive it. Since I was the only other one you'd ever been with you asked me on the sly once. I…think I was dying later when the truth came out, but I don't really know a lot about that; I took an organ eating curse that had no cure. I remember you and Ginny talking and then everything started over." Harry explained.

"Ginny? Wait, Ginny Weasley? You and Ginny Weasley?"

Harry grimaced, "Well, sort of. It was… complicated. Both times."

Hermione let it pass which Harry was thankful. "We haven't… well again?"

Harry clenched his stomach but answered. "Not that close, but in my Fourth Shade we sort of dated. A few kisses and cuddles but in '96 you were killed. Well, I thought you died." Hermione noticed the hitch to his voice at the mention of her 'death'.

He didn't hear Hermione's gasp but felt it clearly enough against his side. "You got horribly injured in a firefight with Death Eaters in the Ministry. Jake decided that enough was enough and with the help of a few of his mates faked your death and moved you and your Mum somewhere else. I got three months in Azkaban because we broke in and you died; Fudge's last shot at me before he lost office. I didn't know you were alive until after the war was over. You…stopped me from doing something…really bad."

"Mum and Dad faked my death, and you got put in prison? Tell me what happened."

"I…didn't handle your death well," he confessed quietly, "Voldemort had people in the prison. Big shock right? Anyways they got to me, and my magic core was damaged from surviving what I went through, so I was pretty crippled as far as wand work went. At the time I attributed it to the torture I survived and the Dementors but looking back now I think the guards did something to me under Voldemort's orders. I became consumed with revenge and…"

Hermione's reassuring voice whispered to him when he faltered, and he felt her soft, warm hand come to rest on his bare shoulder. Right over the scars she didn't know she left on him all those years ago. "No judgments Harry; I won't think less of you. You won't heal until you get it out. Please, let me help you."

It took several false starts before he managed to talk coherently. "I…went Dark," he murmured shamefully. "There was this crime boss who helped with rescuing me from Dumbledore and he helped me get a book of magics that I could use: Shadow Magics. I started doing jobs for money since I didn't have any, or anything else to do. Helped me learn and get used to…killing. Eventually I started focusing my talents on Death Eaters, but after a run in with Dumbledore I went looking for a different book that would help me push things further.

"I was too weak to fight them in a stand up fight of magic so I started doing Rituals; Dark, Dark Rituals… and it got easier with each one. The power… it was unlike anything I can, or have ever felt before. I hungered for it; needed it; had to have it, and I keep pushing myself to be better, stronger, more powerful. I got consumed with the Dark Arts, the killing, all of it. I tortured for it, murdered for it, stripped the magic and souls of my enemies for it. When you found me I was just about lost, _was_ lost to the magics I had invoked. For vengeance I traded _me _for the power to kill Voldemort and all of his people. I was about to do Dumbledore in when you stopped me. I remember you sending me back that round."

To her credit Hermione didn't move away from him at his whispered confession. "Those are the only times we've been close?" she asked, moving the conversation away from his dark past. Harry was thankful for the small act of mercy.

"…Yeah. Last Shade we were about to start something. We had only just the day before talked about there being an us but I was bitten by one of Greybacks little psychopaths. I tried to commit suicide by throwing myself off the astronomy tower. Guess something happened that saved me. No idea what though but I can easily imagine it had something to do with you. I'm pretty sure the Vanguard would have been in on it as well but I don't remember anything after the long fall from the tower."

Harry barely heard her when she asked her next question. "I guess there had been others? Others… you've been with?"

"Excuse me?" he asked stunned.

Hermione reasoned, "Well it stands to reason you would have found someone to be with in your other lives…"

"Shades," Harry grunted. He wasn't sure were this was going but it was getting more and more uncomfortable.

"…Shades. So, who were they?" Hermione finished asking.

"Hermione, this is a loaded question. I can understand why you would want to know about prior you's, but why do you want to know about the others?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulder that rested on his bare chest. "Please answer the question Harry."

Harry closed his eyes and told her. Hermione asked a lot of loaded questions about each of them, but he answered truthfully. He told her about Ginny and the love potions she dosed him with, and in the next run how he'd dosed himself so that he'd forget about how he felt about Hermione when she'd gone off with Ron again. Harry explained about his relationship with Susan Bones and how it'd started at his trial for underage magic. He glossed a lot over Ishtar, but told her a few things.

Hermione was pretty curious about Daphne and Tonks; asking how they got started and what happened. When she saw he was uncomfortable with certain questions she let that question go, but would ask other leading questions. Eventually Harry noticed the day was getting on and they'd been in bed talking for most of the morning.

"You've had a lot of women in all your li…Shades. Have you thought of starting up with any of them again?"

Harry's eyes narrowed but didn't say anything for a moment. "No. I actually had thought to avoid them; a lot of bad memories. Susan, Daphne, Ishtar, and Tonks all died. With Ginny I ended up on potions either way so I'm a bit shy about that; Luna… I never really understood that one but it was fun while it lasted. No idea why she called it quits between us, unless she happened to see it was going to end badly - either with her death or mine. I've actually decided to keep things 'casual'. Some skirt chasing and maybe some slap and tickle if I was lucky. If I died then there'd be no widows or anything to worry about and no one Voldemort could hold against me."

Hermione was quiet for a while before she spoke again. "Casual…I see. But what if someone didn't think it was casual or they wished for something more…"

"I never planned to be anything but clear on this issue Hermione. I got Voldemort after me, Dumbledore trying to enforce his idea of the 'Greater Good', and my own recklessness with getting business taken care of. None of it is very conductive to strong lasting relationships. Besides, no one in their right mind is going to want to tie their sails to this sinking ship."

"Like with Katie Bell?" she asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. He had forgotten about his tryst with her. It was something that had happened in the last few runs but it had completely slipped his mind. He really shouldn't have been surprised Hermione knew of it, his old self thought he was clever but really it was just a thought. In reality the old Harry was about as clever as Hagrid trying to keep a secret. "Katie wasn't meant to be a casual thing Hermione, but it just happened to be that way in the end. Besides, that ended before I 'woke'."

Harry rolled over, leaving Hermione on the bed with only the bed sheet to cover her indecency. He ignored her gasp at the second clear view of his uncovered torso. He walked over to the window after picking up his smokes and lighting one of the fags; his eyes looking to the small park that sat outside.

"Harry?"

Harry blew out a cloud of smoke. "The Harry you knew died when these memories surfaced. The Harry everyone knew or would fancy is gone, Hermione. Anyone who gets close enough to know me is not going to want that kind of relationship, not knowing the risks beforehand and I don't have it in me to trick someone into it. It just wouldn't be right. Katie had the right of it. It's not the first time I've been unceremoniously dumped, and I've learned to accept that I'm a dangerous and irritating bastard to be around. If I am remembering it right, she was just trying to help me deal with the pain of the final task and the afters of the Third Task last year when it got… a lot more physical than either of us expected, and more than Katie was ready for. She saw the signs that she was becoming emotionally attached to me and did the right thing: she left. It's a winning tactic, hence why I want to keep things casual."

"I'm sure it's not quite like that Harry…"

"You have no idea what you are saying Hermione," he argued, looking over his shoulder with a small glower, "I've seen horrible things… I've _done_ horrible things…"

"It doesn't change my mind Harry," she said firmly, "the things you've done haven't happened yet; you haven't done anything yet Harry…"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that… I am a monster now. Don't you get it yet? Didn't I, just last night, hold a gun to your head? Do you have _any_ idea how close I was to pulling that trigger? Do you have _any_ idea how much I wanted to?"

Hermione was quiet at Harry's statement, her soft chocolate eyes staring into his smoldering emerald, and after several seconds she leant forwards; clutching the sheets over her near-bare torso. "Explain to me what is going on Harry. You can't do this alone, and I want to be a part of this..."

Harry's face turned into a neutral mask and he broke her gaze; returning his attention to the park outside the window that now had some parents and their children loitering around. "I learned a lot during that dark part of my Shades, 'Mione, and last night I had to use some of it."

"Go on Harry; it's okay," she prompted, and Harry gave a small snort followed by a sigh of resignation when it became obvious that she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"You say that now…" he warned, but continued before she could push. "It starts back in '81. Pettigrew gave up my parent's hiding place. You know this already. I'm pretty sure this runs of third year is the same as the others and that is when we found all this out. Anyways, they'd been a huge thorn in Voldemort's arse for a while, and he feared me because of the Prophecy." At Hermione's open mouth he raised his hand, "Later. Anyways, he saw my death as very significant. It would be the point of no return once I was gone, and there would be nothing to stop him from taking everything. He killed both my parents and started his plans for me. He was going to use me to make something, but it didn't work; the ritual was corrupted by the old and more powerful magics my Mum invoked with her sacrifice. His attempts at Immortality were put to the test, and technically worked… but at a cost. His body was broken and a piece of him was lost. That piece was a bit of his soul, but with the ritual fucked it didn't go where it was supposed to and latched onto the only thing it could. Me."

Hermione gasped, but Harry didn't pay it any attention; taking another draw on his cigarette before continuing on with his story; still watching the kids playing outside, completely unaware of their presence. "My delving in the Dark left me with a whole lot of unique knowledge, not to mention some of this was covered in later stages of most Shades. I knew what he was trying to do then and why it failed, and I know from prior Shades that the fragment was there in me. It's where the visions come from, and the empathic impressions I would get from time to time." He sighed and walked over to the bedside table, but only to pick up the tumbler of whiskey that had somehow made its way there from the previous night. After he'd swallowed the contents; a rather large mouthful, he walked back to the window and continued. "So I put together a plan. I needed to get that bit of Voldemort out of me because there was no way I was going to walk around with a bit of that arsehole in me again; it was weakening my core, my mind, and my body, and that left me with only one way to do it."

"You would have to do what he did that night... you would have to kill someone." Hermione supplied, catching on quickly.

Harry nodded but confessed, "Not just kill. The Ritual requires cold blooded murder." He leant his head against the cold glass of the window. "I've never crossed the line and harmed an innocent before, and didn't plan on it again, but still, someone had to die, and so I narrowed my targets to Death Eaters. The one I chose was Dolohov."

"Harry, Dolohov was sent to Azkaban years…oh God, you didn't?"

Harry nodded with a wry smile against the glass, "Yeah, last night. It's not the first time I've broken in, but this time I had the knowledge of my times as an Auror that used to patrol the prison. Twice. It went a lot smoother this time and planning was easier. I grabbed Dolohov after killing several Death Eaters I passed on my way to his cell. I hadn't planned on the extra killing at first, but I did it just the same." Harry kept his back to her, fearing what her reaction would be to what he had done the night before, and quickly continued before she could say anything. "Once free with my prize I did the Ritual where I couldn't get caught or found. There I murdered Dolohov. Voldemort's soul fragment is gone, but that doesn't change what I had to do to get that freedom."

Harry turned to look at Hermione; his eyes dead and all hope gone. "I told you last night you were way off the map. 'Here, there be monsters' I said, and that's just what I am: a monster the likes of which you cannot possibly imagine. Do you really think anyone could fancy a monster? Do you think anyone could really love someone who is not only capable but more than willing to do these acts?"

"Harry…"

"This war is only getting started Hermione. Dumbledore would have us capturing Death Eaters and putting them in Club Azkaban where they will get freed by Voldemort in time, and I'm not bloody taking that 'Mione. If Voldemort takes the Ministry they will all be pardoned and free regardless of any and all crimes. Voldemort will butcher the sheep of the Wizarding world until they bow to him or run away in fear, so the only solution is to kill them all: burn them to the ground and piss on their ashes. I have over two hundred years of experience fighting this war, and fight I will. You would be astounded with all the ways I know about torture and killing now. You would be even more surprised with just how easy I find it to 'pull the trigger' as your Dad calls it.

I've already started the ball rolling. I've already put things in motion that should save lives this round. With just Dolohov dead I've already saved your life from something that could almost kill you at the end of this year, countless Muggles, and more than a handful of young nubile witches. No telling how many I saved with executing the others. This year Riddle lays low. This is the only year I have to be a kid. This year I'm going to have fun, pull some pranks, have a laugh, and enjoy myself because next year it gets bloody and my childhood is over again. Next year the gates of Hell open and the horsemen ride forth; and I plan to lead the charge. Assuming I can't off Riddle before then."

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated. I haven't gotten the next couple of chapters back from my beta yet but I may still post them on here later and replace them with the finished replacements later.

This chapter was particularly difficult to write for me because I was unsure how fast I wanted to develop the main paring. However, I finally decided how it will go so things will move along as I can get the time to write it out. Sadly, I am running out of finished chapters but I am writing again and will keep the pace the best I can.

**Shout Out!** A great story to read if any are interested is The Forgotten Contract by munkeymaniac. A story I ran across just a few days ago. It's got some minor grammar issues but the story itself is fantastic with decent length chapters and very well developed relationships and character development.


	13. Developments

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 12, Developments**

'_Having knowledge of what the future could be sounds like a good thing. However, it's when new ripples make waves that things change and all your knowledge of what will happen means nothing. It was a good thing I was always pretty good at flying by the seat of my pants.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry lost track of time pretty quickly after Hermione left his room. The night before and their morning talk had been like a breath of fresh air to him. Those events purged a great deal of stress from him that he didn't even realize he was carrying around. As he surveyed his mindscape he had to agree that coupled with the removal of Riddles Horacrux he was moving forward at last. He only hoped that his revelations about what he had done and what he was going to do going forward didn't cost him Hermione. Still, she had to know, there was no going forward with any kind of friendship with her without the truth.

The sky was clear in his mindscape and all the colors were lush and bright. Clean waters sparkled and Harry was pleased with the woodland scent that floated about. The castle walls stood strong with pristine Penates flying their colors proudly. Harry walked over the drawbridge and into the keeps inner court. As he walked along stairways, halls, and eventually the battlements Harry took note of his memories, impressions, and various other bits that made up his mind. He finally managed to integrate all of his previous shades into the mindscape.

Hermione had mentioned before she left his room that morning that he needed to move into his new present and out of his pasts. He'd been trying but obviously he wasn't succeeding. So Harry was here to try something Tonks had him to do in a prior life when he couldn't get past Sirius's death. He exited the bastion he was walking through and into an open area behind it. Harry raised his hands allowing seven holes to manifest with piles of dirt next to them and a single shovel. Each hole had a marble headstone resting before them. Harry looked up from the grave to next to him watching as a visual representation of all he was in his First Shade appear. He was about thirty-seven or so. His temples were slightly greyed and he was dressed in his in his Head Auror Robes. Harry smiled. He watched as the older version of him jumped down into the grave to lay down. He picked up the shovel and starting throwing dirt into the hole.

Harry looked over to the other 'hims'. The second was noticeably younger but dressed in Auror robes as well. There was a wild look to him, like he expected an attack at any moment. Beyond him was a man of about the same age dressed in the violet robes of the Wizengamot. His eyes held a strain to them and he didn't appear too fit. He wasn't much of a warrior in that Shade. By contrast his Fourth round was darker. Shadows seemed to cloak him and his face was hidden by the mirrored mask on his face. His very presence left a chill to any who came near. Next was his representation of his Shade where he was a Specter. He was dressed in a mix of Wizarding and Muggle clothing compete with weapons kit for his wand, stave, pistol, a brace of knives, and his travel pack. Following him was the oldest of all his forms. The old man was over a hundred with a long white beard. He was dressed in leathers that left nothing on his body exposed to the harsh elements the world offered. Various tools and weapons were holstered or strapped to him in various places. Lastly was the man who he was prior to this Shade. He was dressed in the Potter family armor with his sword bared in his hand.

Each shovel of dirt Harry dug up and threw into the hole was a memory from that Shade. A day at the office, the time he captured Dreg's who was trafficking magically altered narcotics to the Muggles and converting the money to gold. Holidays, birthdays, events of all kinds were buried one at a time. These were memories best left buried and served no purpose to his new life. These memories were not memoires or events he wanted to access again. But if he did, he could always come and prey over the graves.

Once he finished he pulled his wand and began inscribing the epitaph on the stones. The process continued until all the graves were done and he stood before them looking at the work he accomplished rereading the epitaphs for each again. He nodded satisfied and felt lighter than he had since this Shade started.

He rose quickly from his mindscape into the real word to notice Kreature waiting patiently for him by the door.

"Good morning Kreature. What's for eating this morning?" Harry asked while he moved himself to the table.

"Poached egg, clementine, fresh raspberries, toast with Lingon Berry jam and Ceylon Tea." Kreature replied while placing the tray on the table. Steam slowly wafted from the brown betty tea pot in the center. Once Harry had sat down Kreature began serving his plate.

"Excellent." Harry spread the jam over his toast while Kreature busied himself with setting up his plate. "What news from the Order today?"

Kreature kept his small smile on his face very happy to serve as he answered. "Hogwarts letters are due today. Headmaster Dumbledore was unable to secure a teacher he needed and the Ministry supplied one. The topic they discussed was the coming book lists."

Harry nodded around his mouthful of toast. He remembered it was last minute before Fudge was able to push the issue and get Umbridge installed. After swallowing he asked, "Who's in the Kitchen today?"

"Dobby Master."

"Ahh. Let Dobby know then Ms. Weasley will want to throw a party this evening to celebrate Ron and Hermione becoming Prefects. More than likely she will try to spring this on him to give her an excuse to take over the kitchen. Cakes, pies, and buffet style foods since most of the Order will make an appearance. If for nothing else than free eats. Figure food enough for fifty but a bit extra to be sure. A couple of them can really pack it a way."

If Harrys knowledge of things startled the little elf it didn't show. "Very good Master I will tells Dobby. Will you wish any of the wines to be brought up for the occasion?"

"Ales, beer, and whatever wines go with the foods Dobby makes. I am sure if neither of you knows what goes with what Winky will. Anything else going on?"

"The Dark skinned Auror and the pink haired woman reported on the break in of Azkaban last night. A lot of comings and goings last night to well into this morning from the back door to the Kitchen."

Harry popped a couple of raspberry's into his mouth digesting that bit. He wasn't surprised they knew already. He half expected it to be all over the Prophet by this afternoon. "They know anything?"

"Only that one man attacked the prison by unknown means, killed several high ranking Death Eaters held there and is assumed to have made off with one other. That is what the Ministry knows, and all the Order knows as well. Amelia Bones is heading this particular investigation according to the Dark Skinned Auror. The Headmaster believes the attack was most likely made by the same person that staged the ambush at your Aunts house."

"Could be worse…" Harry mumbled while pealing the clementine then taking a bite of the sweet fruit. Amelia running the investigation was bad. If he left any evidence behind, she would find it. He was pretty sure though he covered his tracks well enough that she shouldn't be able to figure anything out but still, he was worried. As for the other issue it was working in his favor. Dumbledore believing there was a third player would make some of his future plans work better. He was brought out of his thoughts when Kreature continued talking.

"Also, as you instructed I have been making daily trips to your Goblin to check if there was any messages from him to you. This morning he handed me this envelope."

Harry's mouth full of the fruit he took the envelop that the house elf slid to him opening it with the knife from his breakfast kit. He unfolded the parchment reading its contents nodding occasionally. It was the news he was waiting for. Harry picked up his quill and wrote a reply on the parchment as well as a request of his own. It meant giving up a bit of his knowledge with no way to keep it contained but his options were pretty low if he wanted to get into Bellatrix's vault.

He picked up his mug of tea taking a drink to clear his throat. "Thank you Kreature. I've been waiting on this notice. When you get a chance take this back to Undar if you would. Anything else?"

"No Master."

Harry nodded. It would seem news of Dolohov's head being spiked out on Malfoy's lawn had not reached the Order yet. It would, Snape would be sure to mention it when he found out. At the least to Dumbledore. "Alright. I'll be working on a few things here if anyone needs me."

"Very good Master." The little elf replied before he removed the breakfast try and popped away.

Harry removed the sorcer's trunk from around his neck and removing a satchel from one of its cubbies to place it on the table for him to work on. The stone he acquired from the goblins he placed in the center of the table. He took a moment to climb into his forge to retrieve something he had been smithing over the last couple of weeks before he set to work. He spilled the contents of the satchel onto the table in front of him and began assembling the device. The next few hours should be fairly exciting if his theories were as good as he thought they were.

xxxxxxxx

Undar of the House of Krill walked at his brisk pace to his meeting. The purpose of the meeting was unknown to him however when the Most High Skirnir Kraltaslamak summons you, you don't ask why. You just do it. The Hall of Laws was filled with the heads of those who didn't. However, it didn't take an engineer to figure out that somehow Harry Potter was involved. He was not ranked high enough to be held at court, nor for his voice to hold any weight there and Potter was the only new element in his life at the bank that could explain the summons.

As Undar walked along the stone hallway he opened the envelop Potters elf had delivered a few moments ago reading the missive through the flickering torchlight. He had agreed to the time and place for the meeting with the Mercenary Ayres which was expected but his other request was odd. Either the man-child had a death wish or he was far craftier than even he had given him credit for. He hoped it was the latter.

It took him close to an hour to walk from his office and arrive at his destination. As he walked into the throne room he took note it was completely empty but for three goblins. The Skirnir Kraltaslamak sat on his throne with a frown, his most trusted advisor stood next to him. What surprised him the most was the third goblin. Krakraw stood ramrod straight with his hands behind his back staring at nothing.

"**My Lord Skirnir Kraltaslamak.**" Undar stated in their grutle language.

Undar waited patiently and respectfully. The goblin king continued to sit on his throne with his chin resting on his steeped fingertips apparently thinking and ignoring Undar completely. Minuets passed in complete silence while he waited. No one ever accused Undar of being a fool and only a fool would impose his will over the strongest Goblin in their clan. When the king finally did speak Undar almost jumped.

"**Tell me of the Human who bested Krakraw in the arena. Tell me of Rapkip Tomak.**" His voice was steady and hard.

Undar nodded. It was as he thought. "**His name is Harry Potter, My Lord.**"

"**Yes, Potter. I've heard of his House before. Deeds of his forbearers have reached even to mine ears. Tell me, what kind of human is he?**"

"**Highly intelligent, respectful, driven and highly skilled, My Lord.**"

"**Impressive for one so young. What is your impression of the man child?**"

"**As I am sure you are aware my House has been tied to the Potters for several generations.**" Undar verified.

The imposing king nodded still showing no emotion on his hard face. "**Yes, I am aware of the life debt incurred by your ancestor to the Potter man of those days. Your family has served nobly and brought great Honor to your House and name. As I understand it you are the last of your line that serves in this post.**"

"**Correct, My Lord.**" Undar answered.

The goblin king nodded waving to Undar to continue. "**And your impression of the Potter man child?**"

"**If I was not honor bound to serve his House, I would do so of my own free will.**" Undar answered honestly.

No expression crossed the goblins face. "**High praise. Tell me what deeds have earned such loyalty?**"

Undar took a moment to collect his thoughts before answering. "**While deciding what he wished to liquidate from his Family Vault Potter found several goblin treasures thought lost ages ago. Instead of doing as any other human would do he gifted them back to the Goblin Nation asking me to return them to the families of the smiths who originally crafted them as per our customs. Those families have made their appreciation known to me in this matter. Every Goblin he has spoken to he does so with respect in our culture and ways though his knowledge of our language is minimal. Of our beliefs and laws this respect is shown, even if it is not in accordance of his own culture.**"

"**If this human were a goblin I would actually consider him a threat for my crown to have swayed my people so. Most unusual behavior, but not a unpleasant change coming from a human. Strange to think complementary thoughts on a species I have despised most of my life. To find a human who thinks beyond his own peoples laws and respectfully upholds the laws of a foreign people… A rare person no matter his species. Tell me what you can of his doings through our bank.**"

Undar answered but it was clear he was trying to cover his unhappiness at doing so. "**He has recently authorized many sales of his possessions liquidating assets for gold. Gold he has spent in great amounts moving several projects forward. His knowledge of his own government is very advanced allowing a great many of his wishes to proceed smoothly despite the handicaps he works under, and all in great secret. He has not confided in me what all his doings will eventually lead to.**"

"**You are not unintelligent, Undar. Surely you have an idea of what the man child is up to.**" The Goblin King pressed.

"**I have a few thoughts on the matter My Lord.**"

"**Share them.**"

Despite being commanded to do so he hesitated for just a second. It did not go unnoticed by any of the goblins before him. "**I believe he is preparing for a large scale war, or at least the possibility of one.**"

"**An interesting thought. What has led you to think so?**"

"**He has been adamant and unwavering about his belief in the return of the Wizard Voldemort. His own government, as you are aware, is doing nothing to curb this threat as they do not sanction his words. His greatest advocate has been castrated and both have been vilified in their newspapers. Since the Hazard, Potter has taken measures on his own that leads me to the conclusions I have previously stated.**

**A new Wizarding Guild is being funded and founded by Potter. This guild's primary function is research but there are elements that could be used for development of what it discovers. In addition the guild hall itself is being constructed in a location that will be unlikely to find, improbable to assault if it is found, and if staffed to the floor plans design I have seen, impossible to take by any force known to me. In addition he has made tentative contact with a human mercenary of great loyalty and repute. If hired, I can see him becoming Potters second in command or at least Commander of those in the Guild.**

**He has done exemplary research into who in his government is bribable, blackmail able, or corhersable to quietly achieve his ends. Using his contacts everything he has so far asked of me to do has proceeded with a swiftness I have never seen. He has intelligence into financial matters that so far is proving to be incredibly accurate if the projections hold, and will make him one of the richest Wizards by this time next year. If not **_**the**_** richest despite the fact he has almost completely bankrupted his House at this time. In short, he is building a powerbase; his information network is unmatched, and we, the goblin people, are the only one's he has trusted to know his secret. Only he knows the full extent of his future reach, though I can see it will be greater than even Dumbledore has ever achieved.**

** If I was to take what I know and apply it to the rumors or hearsay of the day, I would say Voldemort is indeed back and he is preparing for the war to come in his own way with no regard to the laws of his people. Nor do I think he cares. I find myself leaning toward the theory that he doesn't care what it is going to take, just so long as he wins the conflict. If I am correct, his preparations are very through. It is my belief he has spent most of the last three years preparing for this moment and has decided now to be the time to begin. His enemies will never see his counter coming when he strikes. Nor will his own Government know of his involvement in their rescue or salvation.**"

"**You believe the Potter man child will fight the coming war and seek to intentionally not take any of the honors or glory he will have earned?**"

"**Yes My Lord. From my own information network I have ascertained it is not his way to brag, boast, or sing of his own praises. He will fight and kill to protect the flock of his people. Even when those very people believe him to be unstable, Dark, and evil.**"

"**A worthy champion.**" The goblin king turned to the forgotten and ignored solider goblin standing to the side. "**And you still wish to challenge this human?**"

"**Yes My Lord, I do. My Honor demands no less.**" The goblin Krakraw answered. Undar raised his eyebrow when he did. It was an interesting development.

"**Your Honor,**" countered the goblin King, "…**was satisfied when the Human gifted it back to you after your defeat. He spared your life when it was his to take. He gifted you back your Honor by leaving you armed in the arena when he could have left you to live in shame. He was more generous than any goblin would have been in a similar situation.**"

"**I understand this great Skirnir Kraltaslamak. I was foolish to underestimate him. I looked at his age and believed him weak. I allowed his bravado to provoke me into underestimating his skill. My frustration became his allies and I allowed him to have them. These are not mistakes I tolerate in any I have under my command, so for my Honor I request a challenge where I will bring my full talents to the fight.**"

"**And are you prepared for the consequences of failure, should that be the outcome and you are bested again?**"

"**Yes My Lord. Should the outcome of this Challenge remain the same as the last, I am willing to bind the loyalty of the House of Crinix to that of House Potter, to the fifth generation in servitude.**" Undar couldn't help but raise his eyebrow. It was a steep debt to pay, he would know. He was the last in his House to pay that exact same debt to the same house.

The goblin king leaned back into his throne. Speaking more to himself he wondered aloud, "**What is it with this human that shakes the worlds of those whom are caught in the wake of his passing?**"

"**My Lord?**" asked the until that moment silent advisor, who was ignored by the musing king.

"**I am inclined to grant your request, Krakraw, however he is human and is not bound by our customs. Convincing the man child to fight again for no gain to himself may prove difficult.**"

Seeing his opportunity to advance his clients wishes Undar risked speaking. "**If My Lord would forgive my speaking, I do not see this as being a difficult proposal.**"

"**Really… Speak then.**"

"**Potter has asked me if it would be possible to speak personally with you My Lord. He stated he has a proposal that will be of great interest to the goblin people.**"

"**I do not speak to Humans Undar. Let him speak to Ragnok if he has something he believes to be of interest to us.**"

"**I understand Skirnir Kraltaslamak, but he is very adamant. He specifically requested to see you and not Ragnok. Considering his information network it would not be surprising if he knows Ragnok is simply the face you allow to be presented to the Humans. I do not know what he wishes to discuss with you but I do not believe he would make this request without cause. He has stated in his missive to me that Rapkip Tomak would be willing to undergo the Crendiali for his right to stand before you.**"

"**Your Human is not simply well informed Undar, he is highly educated in our ways. So, Rapkip Tomak wishes to speak with me and has chosen the Crendiali as the vehicle to do so...**" The Goblin King continued thinking to himself for some time. "**Your request to challenge the human is granted. You are aware as the Challenged he has the right to declare what weapons?**" The goblin king asked Krakraw.

He raised his chin defiantly. "**I do not fear his magic, if that is a weapon he wishes to employ. I will fight with weapons I have won wars with My Lord. I have fought Wizards before and I will be prepared.**"

"**Then it is settled. Undar tell Rapkip Tomak of the Challenge issued by Krakraw. We will settle this issue once and for all on the forty-sixth day of Uncrow. This spectacle shall be my gift to our people on this Holy Day and the entire clan shall bear witness to Krakraw's victory in the arena over the Human…**" The stern and predatory face of the goblin King turned to his solider. "**Or his complete failure and subjection or death.**"

"**And the matter of Rapkip Tomaks request?**"

"**Assuming he survives, I will give the man-child his chance to speak if he will quell the bellyacheing of Krakraw. If for no other reason than to shut him up. Now these matters are resolved, leave me. I have Enemy clans to conquer and kill.**"

Both Goblins clasped their fists to their chests and bowed to their liege. As he walked through the doors of the Great Hall Undar sincerely hoped Harry Potter knew what he was doing because if he didn't it was unlikely he would live past the Challenge.

xxxxxxxx

Harry looked up from the projection that encased his left arm to the center of the table. The cut Grandidierite stone hovered a few inches off the surface being orbited by a much much smaller orange banded sardonyx stone. A thin arc of bluish-green energy could be seen connecting the smaller stone to the larger one periodically. Harry looked down at the projection surrounding his arm content so far with his work.

The blue-green holographic device had taken him hours to configure and complete to the stage he was at now. It covered him from hand to elbow like a bracer with a moving circle over his hand and under as well. His fingers were held rigidly splayed as if he was holding the bottom circle in his fingertips. With his arm held out before him he looked over every aspect of the device making sure everything was there that needed to be so. In his various shades he relied on a wide variety of tools for communication, protection, and scrying. It was incredibly cumbersome to say the least and walking around with all that gear on all the time was a dead giveaway he was up to something. However, this device would change all that for him. With this device he would be able to do away with keeping vials of the potion he used to make the incense sticks he used for looking at the Arithmancy and Runes of the wards he worked on or tried to crack. The scanning program he installed worked exactly like the spell he never could master. Massively time saving for him.

He allowed his eyes to track to the compass that rotated just above his hand. Again, a spell he didn't need to worry about anymore. Harry brought his right hand over the keyboard that sat just above his forearm and began typing on the key pad to bring up the runic equations that would allow him access to the storage mainframe. A screen extended from the left side of his forearm slightly tilted so he could see diagram perfectly. A few moments passed while he ran through the calculations again. Everything look the way it was supposed to.

"Alright… looks good so far…" He mumbled to himself as he finished.

Harry typed a few more sequences then held it over a book that rested on the table. It was his fourth hear History of Magic text. There erupted an almost undetectable whine and static like snow sparked over the book for a few moments before the bracer chimed and it all stopped. Harry returned his arm to in front of him while typing through the key pad again. A wide smile on his face when he saw that the scanning feature worked perfectly and the entire text of the book was right there on the screen for him to read.

"Wicked…" he breathed.

Harry spent a few minutes going through every text book he had from first to fourth scanning each one until they all were available to view on the small screen. If everything worked out he would be able to set up larger screens. Small screen worked when you were in the field but for home base lab research he was already considering larger workstations.

"Now let's see if it will cross reference and search…" He mumbled while typing a few key words into the data pad and waited to see if those functions came through correctly. He gave a whoop when they worked precisely to his design.

Harry looked back to the Matrix on the table noticing the near constant arc of energy between it and the smaller Sardonyx stone while he accessed the bracer. It looked almost like a tether as the little stone spun lazily around the much larger one. A quick check showed the power levels were well within design specifications and gave a nod of satisfaction that everything was working so well.

"Alright, let's try voice commands now…" Harry started before the door to his room opened admitting Winky.

He looked over the top of his glasses at the little elf. She must have been on Gardening duty because she was dressed in her yellow overalls and was carrying a small potted Hyacinth. The little purplish blue grape cluster looking plant shook a bit in her hands while Winky looked at her shuffling feet. "Um, Master Harry…"

"It's okay Winky. How can I help you today?" Harry inquired kindly.

"I's know we shouldn't interrupt Master Harry when he is working but his Missus Granger be wantings to talks to you…" she hesitantly explained.

Harry relaxed his fingers allowing the device to disappear. "That's okay Winky. Thank you for telling me. Go ahead and let her…" Harry got before Hermione rounded the corner looking rather cross. Directly behind her he could see Kreature peeking around the corner looking positively mutinous at the back of her. It was then he noticed Hermione's clothes looked a little out of place as if she'd been wrestling. Winky popped away almost immediately. Not even letting Harry finish his sentence. "…in, I guess. Er, Hey Hermione. What's up?"

"I've been trying to get in here for the last hour to talk to you. Do you know how long it took me to figure out Kreature put up a glamour over your door? Why would he do that anyways?" Hermione stopped her rant cold when her eyes fell on the massive priceless stone floating above the table.

Harry smiled at the flustered teen. "Most likely because I've been doing things I don't want people to know about." Harry looked at Kreature still standing just outside the door. "Lock the door would you please?"

"Happily Master. I will return when Dobby has finished preparing for the celebration. I will not be long as it is almost time." The old house elf croaked.

Harry looked back to the stunned girl in front of him while his room door was sealed. "Hermione?"

"Harry… what is that?" Hermione asked practically breathless.

He smiled. "It is rather eye catching eh?"

"That, Harry, is an understatement. Will you please explain to me why there is a stone that makes the Hope Diamond look like a creek pebble floating above your table?"

"Just a project I was working on." Harry stated evasively while removing the orbiting stone and putting both away into their protected wrappings. He wanted to trust her with what he was doing but he just couldn't yet. Maybe in time he could, but now was not it. Once both were stowed away in the sorcers trunk he looked back up to Hermione noticing her frown of displeasure at not having her question answered. He also noticed the Hogwarts letter in her hand and decided to deflect her with the Hagridfeint. It was every bit as tricky as the wrongskifient and just as likely to get him ploughed if he mistepped.

"Letters in I see."

"Don't you use the Hagridfeint with me Harry…"

Harry sighed. "I've already told you too much Hermione, and I wouldn't have told you anything if you hadn't already known about my condition. It's for the war effort. Let's leave it at that please."

"Okay, fine. But we are going to talk about his later and you will tell me about it. I told you last night I wanted to help. I wish you would let me. Here, it's your letter. Ms. Weasley asked me to deliver it since no one else could find you."

Harry took the letter while shaking his head. "We are not going to talk about it later so don't get your hopes up of corning me. Like I said, I've already told you too much as it is. Do you know what Legilimency is?"

At her shake of head and her confused look Harry explained. "It's an obscure old branch of mind magics. And no, theres no books on it that I know of and I've never been able to master it. I know, or knew a couple of Slytherins that know it though. Anyways it allows you, if you are skilled enough, to look into your targets mind. You get images, thoughts and such. If your good enough, you can sort of shift through the persons mind and see anything you want. It is usually done with a wand but I know of at least two people at Hogwarts who can do it wandlessly. Dumbledore, and Snape."

During his explanation Hermione was looking paler and paler but she looked positively outraged at the thought of Snape having that kind of power. "No…"

Harry nodded. "O yeah. The wankers pretty good at it actually. The key is to avoid eye contact, which is vital for the skill to work, without eye contact he would have to use his wand on you to get in. There's a counter called Occlumency, which I do know and will teach you so you can keep your mind safe. For your sake, and mine. When you learn it well enough to keep them out, well talk then." Hermione smiled gratefully at him while Harry opened the letter giving the book list a once over unimpressed. It all looked pretty much the same as the last seven times. He looked at Hermione noticing her look of disappointment. "No, I'm not Prefect. Ron is."

Hermione blinked. "How did…wait, you never made Prefect before?"

Harry snorted. "No. Dumbledore always choose Ron. Ron's first perk to being Harry Potters Friend. You earned yours, Ron walked onto it because Dumbledore wouldn't choose me. Bowing to the pressure of the Prophet and Ministry most likely."

"Harry that's not true… I'm sure Dumbledore thought he would do a good job as Prefect."

Harry shook his head again. "I hope your prepared to do the job alone Hermione. He's not going to be of much help. When it gets to be too much let me know, I'll see what I can do. People are afraid of that nutter Harry Potter. Could be useful to make the rebellious younger years toe the line."

"Harry! Now…"

"Master, the celebration is ready." Kreacher interrupted.

"Thank you." Harry turned back to Hermione. "A little party for you guys. Shall we?" He asked offering his arm enjoying the flustered look on her face.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated. I haven't gotten the next couple of chapters back from my beta yet but I may still post them on here later and replace them with the finished replacements later.


	14. Coming Home

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 13, Coming Home**

'_Dealing with Hermione, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, or the Order was hard but I was able to quickly put who they used to be behind me and deal with who they were now so I was pretty excited about going back to Hogwarts. However, I never took into consideration how a fifteen year olds body chemistry was going to do effect my new consciousness. In retrospect, I am rather surprised the teaching or student body survived that first weekend back or how I was so naïve to think I could handle it alone.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry tried to stifle a yawn while sitting on his school trunk in the sitting room of Headquarters. Throughout the multi levels of the once grim house he could hear stomping feet running all over as people looked for their things which surprisingly managed to get misplaced all over despite the fact three house elves maintained it. Harry took a long drag from the fag in his hand knowing it was a feat only Weasleys could achieve. It was bedlam for every single one of the school going Weasleys. Hermione sat reading a book on her trunk with him while Harry tried to starve off boredom.

The evening before ran pretty smoothly. Harry ran interference for the twins when they were negotiating with Mung about some of the more interesting supplies they needed. Class C non tradable items being frowned on and all. With Ms. Weasley on the rampage she'd been on and Mundungues other problems, they hadn't had a lot of chances to stock up on items unavailable to them otherwise in the last few weeks. Ron got his new broom for making prefect. He would recite the specs to anyone would could keep their eyes open and ears available to pay attention. People visited and ate his food and over all had a good time. Dobby was especially pleased that everyone liked his cooking not to mention it gave the other elves one hell of a mess to clean later and that always made them happy. The only down side was all the attending Order members still looked pretty beat to hell and Harry felt bad about it.

Hermione had noticed his half hidden pensive state throughout the evening and tried to coax the reason out of him but he kept deflecting her. Why he was upset was _not_ something he was going to get into on that night, not even for her. From talking to the Order he was very happy to know that everyone had or would make a full recovery with no lasting effects. There were still investigating who and how someone infiltrated his Aunt's house but so far no one knew anything. It was common wisdom there was a third player in the field but the only evidence was the attack that night and possibly Azkaban.

Harry got a kick out of the mix reactions to how he handled his day in court. Most thought he had one hell of a couch, which he denied since it wasn't feasible, while others ridiculed or praised him for his, as Tonks put it, 'massive set of stones' in throwing what Fudge was doing back in his face and getting away with it. She even asked him at one point if he ever needed anyone to help carry them around do to the size and weight. The twins loved that comment. Harry took another thoughtful drag on the fag in his hand slowly letting it leave his lungs. Nymphadora. That was pure Nymphadora. Still… meeting her again almost ruined everything. He was barely able to control himself when he saw her alive and whole.

The last time he saw Nymphadora was in his Last Shade, and she was dead. Cut in half but he didn't know who did it. It was so crazy there was a lot to that fight he didn't see but he remembered crystal clearly the sight of her body as he rounded the halls making for the next fight. Before that, she was his lover, and that did not end well. The last time he saw her in that Shade she had both her legs and arms broken and a massive spear of ice through her. Her last words to him were, 'I love you Harry… we'll… see each other again…' _How true your words were, my love… _He really didn't think she meant like this however. She was fading so fast even now looking back he wasn't sure she heard him when he told her that he loved her too. Last night if not for Hermione he would have grabbed her and told her right then and there. The memory of that event slammed into him with such force he momentarily forgot who he was, and who he was no longer. Harry took in a shuttering breath as it played through his mind again. He could still taste her bloodied lips; hear her rattling last breath, and feel, like a tingle just under his skin that wouldn't go away, how cold her body was when he held her against him. It was the first time she told him she loved him… and the last. For all the intimacy they shared neither could bring themselves to be the first to say those sacred words.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione's voice broke into his awareness full of compassion. He felt her wipe away a tear he didn't know was running from his eye.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Yeah, just an unpleasant memory." He was thankful she just let it go and went back to reading her book but he could see her eyes dart to him from time to time checking on him, making sure he was indeed alright. Harry pulled his flask from inside his robes and took a nip of the whiskey to calm his nerves. As he came in contact with more and more people from his various pasts it was getting harder for him to control himself. He couldn't even look Mad Eye in the eye the previous night after remembering what he did to him during his fourth run through life.

By the time the Weasleys managed to gather all their wayward items Harry had managed to get himself under control. They all left the house to pile into various taxi's. For safety reasons they all took different routes. Harry chuckled at that. Mad-Eye's idea no doubt. It was crowded and cramped the entire way and by the time he got out of the car he was thankful for the space. Ginny managed to get the seat next to him and practically road in his lap the entire way. Between Sirius, Hedwig, and a few odds and ends that couldn't fit in the boot there wasn't really anywhere else for her to sit. She had a crackin arse and he really wasn't too upset about it but her wiggling, to get comfortable or to get herself off he wasn't sure, left him with a raging bit of wood. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Ginny. Once out of the car she wouldn't look at him and was blushing so deeply it was hard to see her face hidden by her hair. Harry for his part pulled out his pack of Luckies and lit one ignoring the looks he was getting from most of the adults around him.

When Ginny chanced a looked at him he winked at her. "Want one? Might be cliché but I always burn one off afterwards."

He honestly didn't expect her blush to burn any redder but it did. She quickly threw her trunk on a trolley and bolted for the station. Harry chuckled. He'd forgotten how easy it was to tease her. He looked down at the black shaggy dog that sat next to him grinning like a loon. He gave Sirius a smirk and tossed his own trunk on the trolley and started to make his way to the Platform 9 ¾. Hedwig looked at him annoyed before she folded her beak into her wing going back to sleep.

By the time he made it to the platform the other groups were arriving and walking through the portal. Hermione immediately slid her trolley next to his while they waited for their turn to go through.

"What did you say to Ginny, Harry? I've never seen her so flustered." Hermione asked him.

"Hey, it wasn't my idea to put the two of us in the same taxi." Harry defended himself by saying.

Hermione gave him a long suffering sigh. "What did you do Harry?"

Harry leaned into to comment quietly so the others wouldn't hear him. "It might be more of the fact she was riding my leg like a bucking stallion on the way over here than anything I said or did. Bloody Hell Hermione, at least she got off, I'm the one with an Evergreen in his trousers."

He almost chuckled when her eyes grew wider and a rosy tint bloomed on her cheeks. Her eyes darted over to check on the line before them before she whispered back to him. "I thought you were not going to start anything up with your old relationships?"

"For fucks sake, she was humping my leg Hermione. I'm so horney right now I'd do the trolley cart lady if she gave me a wink."

"Potter, Granger! Your next." Barked Mad Eye effectively silencing Hermione's reply, if she had one. Harry pushed his cart forward and through the barrier finally getting on to the platform. Seeing the old Hogwarts Express sitting there pumping its smoke all over everything gave him a smile. He was going home at last.

Once they reached the train and Ron joined them Harry turned back to Hermione. "I'll see you guys later. I'm going to grab a compartment."

Hermione gave Harry sad look while Ron looked sheepish about the fact this would be the first Express ride they all didn't get to ride together the whole way. Harry looked to Hermione with a knowing look. "Be toward the back. There's always open carriages back there."

Harry left them to their Prefect duties while he moved down the train to the back. As he knew he would he found a compartment that was completely empty save for one person. Luna Lovegood.

Harry stood there looking at her through the glass of the compartment door just taking her in. The last time he saw her was the day before the big battle when she told him it would have been for the best if they stopped their relationship. He asked her why at the time but they both knew why. The war, his obsession with killing Voldemort, and then there was Hermione. Luna told him she understood and supported him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking away. It was probably the easiest break up in the history of break ups. But that was Luna. She didn't love him and he didn't love her, at least not that way. Sure, sex was always great with Luna. The minx could get downright kinky when it came to exploring her sexuality but it all came down to the fact that neither of them were interested in pursuing anything deeper. Comfort she had called their relationship.

Harry opened the door and stepped in. "Hey, mind if I sit in here with you?"

Unlike in previous times, this time when Luna looked at him time seemed to stop. Luna, who always seemed to have a look of eternal surprise on her face, widened her eyes when they met his. He could only imagine what she was seeing with her Fae Sight.

"You look like Harry Potter…"

Harry smiled. "And you look like Luna Lovegood."

Luna blinked. "How would you know what Luna Lovegood looks like if you haven't met her?"

"Who says I haven't met Luna Lovegood before?"

"I would have remembered if we had met."

"Then you admit to being Luna Lovegood?"

Luna's eye brows knotted a bit while she concentrated. "Well, I really wouldn't know who else to be since I have been Luna for such a long time. It might be fun to be someone else though, even if only for a bit as I am quite fond of being me. But at the moment, yes, I am Luna Lovegood. So, we have met before?"

"Something like that." He replied evasively. He broke eye contact first and stowed his trunk in the overhead. He turned around taking his seat across from her putting an ashtray on the window sill and setting down his zippo lighter and pack of cigarettes before opening up a book he'd been reading from the Potter library. While he was reading he could almost feel Luna watching him from over her Quibbler. Harry picked up where he was on layering enchantments through warding.

"Do you mind if I smoke Luna?"

"Are you on fire?"

"Not yet, but the day is still young. There is a good chance I might be later."

"Then why would you be smoking?"

"Ahh, sorry, do you mind if I smoke a cigarette?"

"O. No, I don't mind."

Harry chuckled. Luna was always good for a laugh. "Thanks." He pulled his wand and cast a pair of charms on the carriage door and window that would keep it pressurized while also venting the smoke outside. Once he opened the window a slight breeze could be felt and he lit the fag going back to his reading occasionally ashing into the ashtray. Luna covertly watched him the entire time.

Just as the train was about to start moving the compartment door opened admitting Neville Longbottom. "Hey Harry, you mind if I sit here? It's a mad house out there and everything looks full."

"I don't mind. Luna?" She shook her head but didn't look up from her Quibbler.

"Cheers." Harry went back to his reading while Neville stowed his trunk. A glance up at the Longbottom heir showed he had that damn stink sap plant his uncle gave him. Harry shook his head. Neville's uncle had a real bad sense of humor. That or he just didn't like Neville as much as Neville liked him.

"Gran asked after you. You look loads better." Neville stated after he got seated on the bench on the far side of Luna.

He looked up from his book. "Yeah, Poppy fixed me up once my people found me."

"When did you get 'people' Harry?" Neville asked with a smirk.

"Well, there not really my people. Just sort of on loan. But you have to admit, that sounds pretty cool." Harry joked getting a chuckle from Neville. Harry noted Luna's eyebrow twitch at their banter and her eyes dart to Neville. From the first sight of him her 'Loony' mask had been shattered and she was scrambling to recover it. One thing about her no matter the face she was giving others, she was a people watcher. She would have known right away both of them were different than at the end of last year.

About that moment the door opened and Harry took note of Cho Chang standing there. _O shite, I completely forgot she was into me this year…_

"Hi Harry." She greeted him.

"Hey Cho. You doing okay?"

Cho shuffled her feet a bit looking down. "You know, about as well as expected… Just wanted to stop by and say hi… Maybe see if you wanted to… sit in our compartment."

Harry felt bad for her, he really did. She always took Cedric's death really hard. However there was just no way he was doing that again. She was WAY to clingy for his needs. "Sorry Cho, maybe another time?"

She nodded and left. Harry sighed picking up his book. _She's going to be a problem later._

Like almost all of his memories of the train ride the whistle blew, people panicked saying there last goodbyes for ten months and things settled quietly in the compartment. Neville was quite content to fiddle with his plant, Luna to covertly watch him, and he had his book. It took nearly an hour before Hermione and Ron showed up and the trolley had already gone by.

"…bloody tosser is what he is." Ron groused as he walked in.

"Language Ronald." Came Hermione's tired voice. Harry smirked behind his book. Ron must have been ranting for quite a bit.

"And we missed the Trolley because of those two second year Ravenclaws. Neville mate, tell me you got something to eat over there?"

"Sorry Ron I only had enough for a couple." Neville replied.

Hermione sat herself next to Harry while Ron took the outside space next to Hermione. Still reading Harry held a half of a pealed clementine out. He heard Ron moan unhappily. "No chocolate mate?"

_Git was lucky I even offered him any… _Harry didn't reply but moved it back into his lap taking a slice and popping it into his mouth continuing to read. It was fascinating theory that had a lot of practical applications. He wasn't sure how to use any of them yet but it was still fascinating.

He heard Hermione take up what must have been their argument in the corridors. "Honestly Ronald, you had to have known he was going to make Prefect."

"Doesn't change the fact he's a tosser, Hermione. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something. We can give out punishments you know. I'll make them do lines…"

"You need to curb your language." Hermione interrupted. "And you can't go and give out punishments without just cause! That's an abuse of power and would make you no better than Malfoy or Parkinson. You're a Prefect now and you have to set an example to the younger years! For example, have you finished your Transfiguration Summer work?"

"Well, er, no. It's not due till Monday Hermione, I have all weekend to do it." Hermione gave him a cold glare which had him back peddling quickly. Harry sighed; there was just no reading with all this going on. He marked his place and closed the book intending to set it aside.

"What? Neither Neville or Harry got it done!" Ron countered.

Before she could deliver her glare on Neville he'd already started talking. "Actually, I got it done a couple of days ago, Ron."

Ron looked to Harry for support but Harry shook his head. "Mine was almost a month ago Ron. All my homework is done."

Luna watching them all interact around her, Neville holding his stink sap plant, Ron looking betrayed, and Hermione looking triumphant. This was the scene Draco Malfoy walked into. As usual he was flanked by both Crabbe and Goyle.

"Malfoy." Harry greeted the pale boy before turning his attention to Neville. "Good on you Mate. What references did you use for the Charms essay? I went with Grolinskies theories on cross layering."

Harry was the only one to ignore Draco's presence as everyone else was looking at Malfoy. Except for Luna who was actually reading her Quibbler. Draco's silky voice interrupted whatever Neville would have replied with. "Where are your Manners Potter? You are in the presence of a Prefect. That means I, unlike you, can hand out punishments."

Harry continued talking to Neville. Just out of the corner of his eye he could see the half hidden smirk on Hermione's face. "…It made more sense than going with Jacburns diagrams on stacking. At least to me."

Slightly flustered Malfoy growled, "I am talking to you Potter!"

"Of course if you read last months 'Enchantments Monthy!' you would have read that article on how he bolloxed up…"

"Potter!"

Harry looked up seemingly surprised Draco was still standing there. "Draco, I'm sorry, I forgot you were there." Harry raised up his hand dismissively. "You may go now."

He heard the snort from Ron as he tried to contain his laughter at the look on Draco's face at being ignored and then dismissed. Draco's just sneered at Harry. "So tell me Potter, how does it feel to be second best to Weasley?"

"Shut up Malfoy!" said Hermione sharply.

"My, I seemed to have touched a nerve… Well, best watch yourself Potter because I'll be _dogging _your steps this year if you step out of line." He turned to leave but stopped when Harry replied.

"Hey Draco," Harry waited until Malfoy faced him before continuing. "When you write home tonight tell your Mum I'll be over later, save me a plate. I forgot to tell her before we left the station."

Malfoy's pale face began to burn and he went for his wand. He got half way before he stopped cold.

Harry's countenance darkened. His body was ridged with suppressed need. His gaze seemed to pierce Malfoy stone still. Everyone in the compartment edged away from him slightly at the look on his face except for Neville. He'd seen that look on Harry's face before. It was look of someone looking forward to the pain, and it didn't matter if it was someone else's or his own. Just looking forward to the pain, the blood, the fight. The look of a man who would drive off a cliff just to kill you before you hit bottom. Harry had a look of bloodlust on his face with the grin to match and Draco was completely unprepared for the cold blooded murder in Harry's eyes.

"Walk carefully Cousin. You never know when the lion you stalk is hungry or not." He quoted. It was an old expression used a lot by one of his people when he was a Spectre. Anthony was always telling people that when they had to give him bad news. In retrospect he did remember he seemed to, just a wee bit, overreact to bad news. Considering the times though if it wasn't for bad news, he'd have no news at all. Harry pushed the thoughts of the philosophical South African out of his mind and focused completely on the young teen standing before him. Harry's voice was almost nonexistent but everyone heard him. Draco swallowed fearfully before he fled. Harry turned his look onto the bad news bookends. Both raised their hands backpedaling out.

Crabbe showed them all he did indeed have a functional brain in his skull.  
"I'm good."

Goyle nodded while closing their door for them. "Sorry for the disruption. We'll just be going now."

Once they were gone Harry relaxed and seemed to just switch over from homicidal murderer to bored kid. "I wonder what's for eating tonight?" He ignored the looks of dumfoundment from Ron and Luna, Hermione's thoughtful countenance, and Neville's sigh of relief. Harry was really looking forward to begin back at Hogwarts despite what he knew this year was going to be like.

Ron's stunned voice was the first to break the silence. "Harry, did you really just tell Malfoy you were going to shag his Mum?"

Harry, who was looking out the window, replied without turning around. "That woman's a total MILF. Have you seen Narcissa's arse Ron? I bet you could bounce galleon off it."

"Er, Harry, what's a MILF?"

Harry tuned to look at Neville with a dirty smirk on his face. "Mum I'd Like to Fuck. What's more I'd lay a thousand Galleons Draco's Dad doesn't take care of business. A woman with that much suppressed need would be positively nasty in the sack. I dunno about you lads, but no, I wouldn't mind finding out if a virile pent up fifteen year old could put that fire out."

"Bloody Hell, she'll kill you mate!" Ron stated shocked and a bit embarrassed. There were two girls in the same carriage with them while they had this conversation.

"Most likely, but I can think of a lot worse ways to die than sexual exhaustion Ron." Harry joked. In a very low tone that only Hermione heard and was almost as forlorn as his tone was joking just a moment ago Harry whispered to himself, "A lot worse…"

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Harry stepped off the Hogwarts express into the wretched storming night. Hedwig immediately took to the air from his shoulder heading to the Owlary while Crookshanks hissed and sputtered in his arms. Ron and Hermione had already taken off to help Hagrid gather up the first years and get all the other kids moving toward the carriages. He tightened his grip on the manky feline in his arms and started off with Neville in tow. They fought their way through the crowd until they found an empty carriage to hold while they waited for the Prefects to finish directing their classmates. As the storm continued unabated Harry had a harder time keeping his hands on Crookshanks but thankfully was rescued by Hermione before he managed to claw his way out of his arms.

The ride was uneventful as the threstrial pulled carriage managed to get them to the old castle relatively dry. Before he realized it they were all sitting at the Gryffindor table waiting for the feast to start. He was catching a lot of attention, no surprise, but so was their new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Deloris Umbridge. While people looked at him with a mix of fear, hate, or uncertainty, people looked at her in revulsion over her pink cardigan.

Ron sat on the bench holding a fork and knife staring at his plate lustfully. A fact Harry found disturbing but didn't comment on. Hermione sat next to Harry talking to a blushing Ginny who still refused to look even in Harry's general direction. Harry just waited looking at two people he hadn't seen in a very long time.

Hermione noticed his mood right at the off but waited to question him until Ginny moved down the table to sit with some of her year mates. "How are you holding up?"

Harry smiled sadly still looking back and forth between the two girls. "They look good. A lot better than the last time I saw either in the past."

Hermione followed his gaze to Susan Bones sitting at the Hufflepuff table talking to Hanna Abbot and the Slytherin Daphne Greengrass who was laughing at something Davis said to her. "Remember Harry, nothing's happened yet."

"And it's not going to either. Honestly, I'm happy to see them so carefree. Both of them died in pretty traumatic ways. Especially Susy."

"Carful Harry, you don't know her that well yet."

Harry took a deep breath, "Your right. Your right. Sorry. It's just… being back in Hogwarts is great but kind of strange. It is good to see them alive again but it's also kind of hard."

"Hey what are you guys whispering about?" Ron asked them.

"Wondering where Hagrid is." Harry lied smoothly.

Ron opened his mouth to say something but stopped when the great doors banged open. Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder giving him a sympathetic rub while McGonagall finally ushered the first years through the Great Doors carrying the sorting hat and the stool.

Like always the buzz of the great hall faded and everyone waited patiently for the sorting. The first years looked around in awe and dread while McGonagall placed the stool down and placed the Hat upon it. It was completely silent when the rip appeared on the hat near the brim and it began to sing. Every time before Harry listened to the hat but this time he watched the crowd. A lot of faces looked shocked at the departure from the traditional where the hat sang of the different houses and what qualities they possessed. Some, he took note, were thoughtful, others, notably from the Slytherin table, disdainful. Most were just confused and taken aback. Everyone's reactions were interesting if for no other reason than it showed who read the prophet, who believed Dumbledore, and who the sheep were. Harry wasn't surprised by the number of sheep but there was more thoughtful than he had originally given credit for. Once finished with his warning the sorting started with Abercrombie, Euan and things quieted down only to peak back up in applause as Gryiffindor got their first new First Year.

Uncharactisticly Harry stayed out of the conversations that rang out along his tablemates once Dumbledore greeted everyone new and old. His mind on what this year would bring and the first of his pranks. He narrowed his targets to Umbridge and Dumbledore. He wouldn't have Defense with Umbridge for a couple of days and there was a lot of appeal to a pre-emptive strike. As for Dumbledore, the challenge alone was worth the thought. Besides, this year was going to suck for everyone but the Slytherins once Umbridge started the Inquisitorial Squad nonsense. Everyone was going to need a laugh and a good fierce pranking competition between him and the twins to see who would own the title of Greatest Prankster of Hogwarts would do that nicely.

While he was going over his plans and debating with himself Dumbledore rose from his throne like chair and began his post meal start of term speech. He told them all about the forbidden items and where to find out what they were, (Which no one would as that meant possibly running into Finch.), introduced the two new teachers, (that was only greeted with a weak applause.) and was just getting into informing them of Quidditch tryouts when Umbridge gave her soon to be patient '_Hem Hem_.' Just hearing it again broke him from his thoughts as well as stunning everyone in the great hall. Never before had anyone interrupted the Headmaster during a speech. Even Dumbledore was surprised.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge simpered. Harry smirked. He'd almost forgotten just how much he hated the bint. _Well, that answers who goes first then. _

Harry zoned out the simpering drone of her annoying voice and turned to look at Neville who was sitting across from him with a stunned look on his face. He leaned a bit over the table, "Mate, she's first. Tomorrow night."

Neville turned to him. "Tomorrow? You sure Harry? I mean, I know you mentioned it before but I don't know what I could contribute…"

Harry turned slightly making sure no one was listing to him. The only one who would have bothered would have been Hermione and she was too busy soaking in what Umbridge was saying. "You'll do fine. Do you have an invisibility cloak?" Neville shook his head. "Okay, you'll use mine then."

"I don't know Harry…"

"Do you really think Gran Longbottom would mind us taking a shot at her? I don't think there's a lot of love lost between her and most of the Ministry. Besides, you have to get caught before you can get punished."

"Yeah… Still, I don't know Harry."

Harry smirked evilly. "Come over to the Dark side Neville. We got Cookies…" Harry stated enticingly.

Neville snickered. "You're not going to let this go are you?"

"Nope. Potter and Longbottom ride again Mate. It'd be epic."

"Why does it have to be Potter-Longbottom? Why not Longbottom-Potter?"

Harry snickered. "Hey, you're already the good looking one, now you want to be the brains too? Greedy fucker aren't you?"

xxxxxxxx

After convincing Neville to join him for a ride on the Dark Side, Harry busied himself with planning what they were going to do and what they were going to need. Fortunately most of it was just charms work but a couple of the enchantments were going to be tricky. Eventually Umbridge finished her spiel, Ron and Hermione argued about what it meant and after Ron called for the Midgets and Hermione scolded him it was time to head to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry took his time taking the long route. He walked through the halls of moving staircases and twisting passages just taking in all the portraits, suits of armor, and various other bits of art and décor. He truly missed this place. It was one constant in all his Shades. Hogwarts always felt like home and was the only place he ever felt he belonged. Maybe after the war was over he could get a teaching post here. Then again they might want someone older but it would be the only way to stay past his school days. It bore looking into.

Eventually Harry finally arrived at the Portrait of the Fat Lady and smiled at her. It was good to see her frame whole and undamaged.

"_Mimbulus Mimbletonia._" Harry stated the password. No one had told him what it was yet but it never changed from one Shade to the other.

She opened with no fuss and admitted him to the tower. He no sooner stepped in when all talking died within. The sudden silence took him aback for a moment causing him to look behind him to see if Snape was behind him or something. Not seeing the greasy git he turned back to the common room seeing every eye on him. He took a few steps in and decided to break the tension. It didn't take Merlin to figure out what the stares were all about and he'd played this game before with his housemates. _Might as well get it all out now._

"Hey Dean. Good Holiday?" He asked his dark skinned dorm mate.

"Yeah, it was okay," chuckled Dean. "Better than Seamus's anyways."

"Why, what happened Seamus?" Harry asked already knowing the answer. A pin could drop and it would have made the firsties jump out a window the tension was so high.

Seamus was dressed in his night clothes looking at his feet. He didn't say anything at first but eventually looked up, his face forcibly neutral. "Me mam didn't want me to come back."

Harry raised an eyebrow and waited for the Irishman to continue. Seamus fiddled with the draw string on his bottoms for a few moments before he stood up looking committed to something. "Well, I suppose because of you. You and Dumbledore."

Harry nodded sagely and replied softly. "Ahh. She reads the Prophet then?"

"Something like that." There followed a long drawn out silence from everyone in the Common Room. Everyone was openly starring at Harry and he could tell Seamus was building himself up to say something.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence Seamus finally spoke up. "Look… what _did_ happen that night when… you know, when… with Cedric Diggory and all?"

He was wondering if it was going to go this way. In all previous Shades this confrontation always took place in the Dorm. Harry was already seeing changes even though he couldn't see why this would change. It was only going to get more glaring as time passed rendering his knowledge almost useless. That would be just fine as far as he was concerned. _Might as well start that party now then…_

In a quiet voice that none the less carried to every ear in the Common Room Harry started talking. "What do you want to know? Do you want to know how Cedric was supposed to win outright but didn't because I saved him from a giant spider? You want to know how he told me to take the cup to pay me back but I told him we should tie for it and share the honor? Is that what you wanted to know Seamus? That it was because I wanted to be fair to my friend and it cost him his life?"

If it was possible it got even quieter as he talked. "No? Not gory enough for you? You want to know how he died then? You want me to tell you how I was dropped by Voldemort and he stood over me trying to protect me when he was cut down by the Killing Curse from Peter Pettigrew? Maybe you want to know what his face looked like when he died. How he looked confused and scared shitless and that was etched into his face the moment the curse struck."

"No, I know what you want to know about that night." Harry was practically whispering now. Seamus's face had paled so much Harry wasn't sure if he was even breathing. "I bet, like Barty Crouch Jr., you want to know what it was like to stand in front of Voldemort. I was tied to a headstone and forced to be the main ingredient to bring him back. They cut me here…" Harry traced a line on his forearm. "I stood there helpless to stop it, forced to watch it knowing there was nothing I could do, and prayed for someone to save me. But no one did."

"Then he was back and standing in front of me. He called his Death Eaters. One by one they came to him. That was when the fun started. I was hit with no less than six Cruciatus Curses before they cut my bonds and gave me back my wand so I could Duel him. Like I stood a fucking chance. He hit me with several more and I couldn't get away. His Death Eaters laughed and jeered. Voldemort laughed. I wasn't laughing though. I didn't think it was funny. The pain is something I can't even explain to you Seamus. It was pain beyond the meaning of pain. Pain so fierce you not only want to die, you want to beg for the one hurting you to kill you so it will stop. It lasts for days, echoing throughout your body so even when the curse stops, it seemingly never does. Even now months later I still get flashes of the pain."

"You want to know what he said to me Seamus? He told me he was going to kill me so that no one would ever question his power again. That's it. I lost my whole family because he wanted the world to know he was the best, the strongest. No other reason. By a freak chance, pure luck, I was able to summon the cup and by even greater chance it happened to be a two way Portkey so I was able to get away."

Here Harry slowly turned around talking to the entire room whom were paying rapt attention. "Away to here. I've told anyone who will listen he's back. I told Fudge these same facts, and he told me 'He Can't be back.' I was tortured and watched my fellow Champion, my classmate, my friend die, and no one believed me. The prophet has vilified me painting me as some kind of nutter so no one _will_ believe me. My classmates shy away from me, fear me, because of what I have seen and tried to tell. My own Housemates care more for hearing the gory details of a fellow's death than for that death and the pain of the sole survivor."

"I fought Quill to protect the Stone, I killed Slytherin's basilisk, I went after Sirius Black and I have escaped torture and death so that Cedric's passing would have some meaning and you all would know and be prepared. Is there one among you I have ever wronged? Have I ever lied to any of you? Have I ever done anything to hurt as single one of you? What do I get for the blood I have shed for you? Ridicule, mistrust, hate, and blame." Harry ran his hand through his hair breathing a sigh of frustration and deep sadness before he brought his eyes back to the crowd of stunned horrified students. "Fuck you all." He whispered in parting before he walked right through the portal and back into the castle proper. He'd rather sleep in his tent in the Chamber of Secrets than spend another moment in the Tower with them.

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated. I haven't gotten the next couple of chapters back from my beta yet but I may still post them on here later and replace them with the finished replacements later.

Okay, as some of you guys noticed, These are not beta'd chapters. LOL, Fact is, my beta is busy and all my work here is self-done. I'm trying hard to get it all right, keep pointing them out and I will make corrections as I can. I apologies, but I am working on it.


	15. Getting the Ball Rolling

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 14, Getting the Ball Rolling**

'_Hogwarts was the only place that ever felt like home. This fact held true in every Shade I was forced to experience. There was nowhere else that gave me the advantage like the halls and rooms of Hogwarts. No one except for Hermione and Neville believes me but I still swear to this day that the old castle had her eye on me from almost the moment I walked through the Great Doors and into her loving embrace. There was just no other way to explain how in the hell I got away with all the stuff I did back then.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Hermione rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand while exiting her dorm making her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Her first weekend was not what weekends at Hogwarts were supposed to be like. Instead of a nice weekend to ease back into her life in the Wizarding World she spent the entire time hunting for Harry. She knew from Neville he hadn't been sleeping in the dorm with the rest of his year mates and she knew from checking herself his school trunk hadn't even been opened yet.

On a hunch she started checking with girls he used to know thinking maybe he would have sought one of them out. She was positive he was in a very volatile emotional state and might have sought one of them to reconnect with. She managed to track down Luna on Saturday but she hadn't seen him and seemed oddly pensive at the mention of him. Crossing house boundary's to ask Greengrass was risky and she wasn't able to find her anywhere anyways but she did talk to Susan Bones. Unfortunately, like Luna, she had no clue where he was hiding either.

Hermione even checked Hagrid's hut on the off chance he might have been hiding out there but it was empty. At various times she'd been to the Owlery but Hedwig was missing, the Library, the Quidditch pitch, the Great Hall, different classrooms, everywhere with no success. The only thing she did find of Harry was the rumors and gossip over what happened in the tower the first night back. One thing about Hogwarts, news traveled fast and something like what he said made the rounds on the gossip network as if it was greased.

What he said and how he said was the only topic of conversation and it was getting more than just a little bit on her nerves. Especially since she couldn't find Harry to talk to him about it. Add to that every student seemed to decide to celebrate the end of holidays by wandering about after hours all weekend and her other Prefect duties and she was just plain exhausted. She didn't want to admit it but Harry, was right, Ron just wasn't any help. He had no problem with doing patrols and catching people snogging or wandering at night but he left all the paperwork for her to do. And he wouldn't maintain order in his own house! The twins decided to post a want ad for testers and Hermione was not going to allow them to experiment on the firsties who didn't know better. She knew she couldn't stop them from testing the vile things on themselves but she drew the line at subjecting little first years to their twisted pranks. When she moved to confront them and put a stop to it Ron backed away and hid instead of doing his duty. He'd done similar things when they found other housemates around breaking curfew leaving her to be the bad one. It was infuriating.

Hermione sighed. Coffee. She needed coffee. This morning was just not a morning for tea.

She was up half the night last night trying to find him, again. Being unable to locate him in the great castle she decided he would eventually need to get into his school trunk. A good old fashioned stakeout was needed. She knew he most likely was keeping his cloak on him so waited in the common room until everyone went to sleep and placed a charm to wake her when anyone walked into the boy's dorm. That way, she could trap him in there with no escape and he would have to talk to her lest they wake everyone up. With the trap laid down she read her course books again refreshing herself on this year's curriculum and waited. It was around midnight when the spell woke her. It didn't work quite the way she intended however. Instead of catching someone coming into the room, she caught someone leaving. It was Neville.

She had an idea Neville knew more than he was saying when he said he didn't know where Harry was after she talked to him before but didn't think much of it. She hated to admit it but Neville was the kind of guy that faded into the background more often than not and she had dismissed him as not being very knowledgeable on this topic. Now however, she knew different. She managed to follow him to the second floor when he just seemed to disappear. It was four in the morning before she gave up and went to bed. Neville, of all people, giving her the slip was just the appropriate capper to an already frustrating weekend.

Yes, coffee would be lovely after the weekend she had.

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Harry walked out of his bathroom. He loved this tent, it was far superior to the one he used last round. Harry knew from research Hermione conducted after the World Cup, in just about every Shade, that there existed two types of magical tents. The more common ones were works of pure runic magic. They were generally far more spacious over the other set and usually far better furnished. Despite the increased size and lavish dressings, those tents were also far cheaper. The magic's used for the expanded space and furniture and other accessories were great schemes but came with one fall back. When the tent was packed all things inside was folded along with the increase dimensional space. Unless an item had been warded to be malleable it would be destroyed by the process so when you bought one of these tents, you bought it all. Since it was an expanded foldable space one had to be careful to make sure all things came back out with you when you packed it up. These tents relied heavily on magic to keep things, all things, where they were supposed to be when in use or pitched. All things that came with it were ready to use without problems. The only problem was you couldn't take an expanded object into a foldable/expanded space without destroying both. Explosively. He remembered the look on Hermione's face, each time, when she was showing him an article where one of the inventors had died that way. It was pretty gruesome.

Now the other type of tent available was the older ones. These tents did not use the expanded space theology but instead the interior of the actual tent was nothing more than a powered gateway which transported the witch or wizard to the room in question. He knew the principles were not that much different with the gateway that guarded Platform 9 ¾. This was the kind of tent Harry used last round and this is the tent he had now. Where this room actually was, was usually unclear but the references stated they usually were either a dimensional pocket (not very likely after the first one collapsed taking a minister and his mistress never to be seen again once the wife set fire to the exterior) or in the real world but sealed with no entrances or exits other than through the magic of the tent. The really good ones though usually offered a door into the real world should the gateway fail, in other words if the tent itself was to be destroyed those inside would not be trapped but be able to leave from where ever the inside was. (Really handy and appreciated by future Ministers and their future Mistress)

Harry knew his existed in the real world. He could hear waves crashing on the shore from time to time and could smell salt water every now and then. His rooms actually sat in a cave pocket on a cliff somewhere in Scotland. He was very specific when he told Undar what kind of tent he wanted. It had to be in the real world, the room had to be somewhere impossible to stumble across by accident, and it had to have hot running water. Harry hated those cold stream baths he took when on the run last round and was not going to do it again.

In his tent, if he left behind anything, when he folded it nothing would happen to the contents within. This made his tent far more useful for him. When these tents were sold they did not come furnished which was considered a disadvantage to the newer models which did. The older tents cost more considering the construction costs to build a room and then the buyer still had to furnish the entire interior. With the far greater cost they fell out of favor quickly with buyers in the market. For Harry though it was everything he needed. Just about all of the surviving stuff from his Family vault was in here. The rest he liquidated to achieve his ends but this tent was his little slice of home away from home, hidden in his current home.

His tent was walled in a lightwood slightly, and lightly, stained. The floors themselves were carpeted in a nice dark crimson from the edge of the kitchenette through the common room, library and bedroom. The trim was gilded giving it a strong Gryiffindor feel. The main room consisted of just the kitchenette, sitting room, and three doors leading off. The one on the middle to the left was his personal library/study now filled with all the books of the Potter Library. Just about every book he thought he would need from the Black library was also in there. It wasn't like Sirius would miss them since most of them were due to be disappeared anyways.

The common room held a nice black chesterfield with matching armchairs, coffee table, and fireplace, which was wide enough for two cauldrons. Said cauldrons where currently sitting to either side of the fireplace on firebricks empty. A great Grandfather clock ticked away the time between the library and his bedroom door, Harry always chucked when he saw it because it used to be HIS grandfather's clock. At least according to the label in the back of it. The most notable feature of that room would be all the pictures on the walls. Several pictures of Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sirius, Remus, Hagrid, Neville, and Harry's parents cluttered all over the walls smiling and waving. Most of them taken at Hogwarts with a few notable exceptions. There was also a large painting of an empty tavern on the rear wall. Two other large frames were over the fireplace, though their occupants were not in them at the moment.

The kitchenette shared space with the common room. It also consisted of the gateway leading outside was done in simple browns and dark gold. A small sink with plenty of counter space lined the small area lead by a two person eating table with two simple chairs.

The rear door on the right was his workshop. Inside there he kept all his rune carving, sewing, well, everything construction related actually. The walls were papered with all of his ideas, rune scapes and schemes, with shelves lined with items in various states of completion. He also kept a small bookshelf in there for all his notebooks. The decor was not much, he needed the wall space for his designs, but he did have one large painting in there of a Quidditch pitch in a small wooden area overlooking an ocean. He would stare at it from time to time when he needed to calm his nerves from some of the more delicate carvings.

The final door, which was at the rear as well but on the left, was his bedroom. It looked just like his room in the Gryffindor tower except for all the scenic pictures lining the walls, all of which came from the box of things dropped off in his vault after his parents died. There where selves for his parents knickknacks, a vase in the corner, two dressers and his bed. Both dressers had their own full-length mirror hanging over them and Harry made his way to the first one, which was his, and respectively had his better clothing stored. He was not going to be a Draco, but he was not wearing rags anymore either.

Harry dropped his towel and started rifling through his things quickly putting on his boxers while keeping an eye the paintings around him. The last thing he needed was for his Mumto walk in through one of them and see him stalkers like she did the last time he came in from his shower. While he pulled his clothes for school out and started to get ready he decided he really liked this tent. It was every bit a new and improved version of his old one.

Finally dressed he walked into his study grabbing up the plans Neville and he had been working on all weekend. The prank was a lot more difficult than he thought it was going to be. It wasn't the tricky spell work; it was getting Neville up to speed and getting the right window to execute their plan. Fact was Umbridge was a paranoid old bat and Harry didn't want to leave any evidence that would hint at their involvement.

"Oi! Lazy Arse, get up. Kreacher'll have breakers ready in a moment." Harry gave the pile of blankets a nudge with is foot getting a groan in reply. He chuckled and walked over to the table going over their plans again.

So far Neville's spell work was far superior now that he had a new wand and his confidence was growing almost exponentially. Harry found himself reminded heavily of the Neville of the last Shade while watching this Neville's progress. If things kept up by the end of the week he figured Neville could give Hermione a run for her coins when it came to spellwork.

Kreacher popped in with a breakfast tray for both Neville and him. Harry busied himself moving the papers around to make some room while Neville himself finally made his presence known.

"Master Harry, you have a missive from your Goblin." Stated the old elf after he set their plates. Harry took the envelope thanking him while throwing a biscuit into his mouth.

While Harry read his news from Undar Neville took a cup of tea from Kreacher. "Good news I hope. You set up a lot of weird investments and stuff when we were there last."

Harry replied absentmindedly. "Yeah, my investments are already starting to take off. This time next year I'll have made more than the Nimbus."

"Not just you mate; I told Gran what you were doing. She told me if I trusted your judgment she would let me use some of the House Fortune to invest. Gran has a squib cousin who does that sort of thing for a living in the muggle world so it was pretty easy to set up. I'm nowhere near as invested as you are but we should turn a tidy profit as well. I think she likes the idea of me making my own money instead of being happy with my allowance." Neville took a long pull of the cup before continuing. "Anything else going on with your account?"

"Actually yes. You remember that goblin I pissed all over during the Hazard?"

Neville chuckled. "Not something I'm likely to forget. I was pretty scared for you."

"Yeah well, he wants a rematch. The goblin kings going to let him do it during my Crendiali."

"You're going through with it then?"

"Mate, I need the goblins on my side, if only for one thing. And it's a big one. It's the only way without having to break in. I've check the laws twice looking for a backdoor but no joy."

Harry noticed Neville raise his eyebrow at the words 'break in' but didn't say anything about it. "What are you going to do about that goblin Harry? Their pretty nasty once they set their minds to it."

"Hopefully I won't have to kill him. I need the goblins and I am pretty sure that would not be good for future negotiations. I'll have to fight him one way or the other but as the challenged I get to pick the weapons."

"Nice one. Magic then."

Harry shook his head still keeping his eyes on the parchment in front of him. "No, I still need to impress the Skirnir Kraltaslamak so I'll declare no wands and only personal weapons. I know a couple of wandless spells that should tip the balance in my favor and it's all legal in their customs. At least there are no hitches with my other projects."

"You beat him once and as scary as that was you could take him again." Neville refilled his tea cup. "You've got to be the best fighter I've ever seen. When is it set for? More importantly Harry, how are you going to get out of the castle?"

"My knowledge of the Goblin Calendar is pretty fuzzy. I think it's set for Halloween. Why in the fuck is everything on Halloween? I really don't need any more reasons to hate that blasted holiday. As to how _we _are going to get there, I got a few ideas. If all else fails I'll have Kreacher take us. Dumbledore won't see that coming but I'd rather not tip my hand with the little guys." Harry stated while he tossed the letter on the table to help himself to a poached egg. Neville had just about claimed all the biscuits.

"We?" Neville asked pointing at himself.

"Yeah, you stood with me the last time so you'll have to stand with me this time. Its tradition."

Neville shook his head. "Gran's gunna kill me if she finds out what we've been up to."

"Well then we better make sure she won't. Besides mate, I don't think she'll mind as much as you think. Weird bird your Gran, but I think she'd be proud of you for taking a stand. Anyways, this is House Business. She'll understand and hate me if she hates anyone."

Neville was quiet for some time going over their notes for the prank. Harry spent that time thinking about the goblin fight he had coming. He knew he was just lucky the last time. He was physically unprepared for the activity he was doing and goaded his opponent into making mistakes. Mistakes he was not going to oblige Harry into doing again. No, Krakraw would bring his A-game. Undar was pretty specific about how driven he was to kill him. Harry was already on protein potions to help with his bodies malnourished stated but it was not going to be enough by Halloween. The regime was meant for slow and steady but it looked like he wasn't going to get that kind of time now. There were other potions he could use, not all of them legal, but they had the benefit of working a lot faster. If all else failed and the potions and exercise regime he was doing didn't work fast enough, he knew a couple of Rituals that would restore him to where he was supposed to be if not for living with his relatives. Of course, the changes would be really graphic and really fast so he wasn't too sure about using that one. Might as well just throw a flare up and start shouting 'Hey! I'm up to something!' He knew a few illusion spells that would cover most of it up but glamor's were easy to penetrate if you knew what to look for.

Harry was just getting his game plan put together when Neville cleared his throat drawing his attention to the young man sitting in front of him. "So Harry, is all this," he asked holding up a sheaf of papers for him to see, "going to help me fight like you do?"

Harry raised an eyebrow giving the young man his full attention. "Just look at all the progress you made in Charms during this weekend mate. Most of that though is self-confidence and a matching wand but still, loads better than it used to be."

Neville gave Harry a strange look before he started speaking again. "I watched you fight in your Hazard. I've never seen anyone fight like that Harry and Gran's had me watching fencing and dueling completions for as long as I could sit still." Neville was quiet for a moment and appeared to be stilling himself to say something. Harry didn't think he was going to like it. "It was your Hazard that got me thinking about something Gran told me the other day. It was you wasn't it Harry? You attacked Azkaban."

Harry kept his emotionless mask in place but internally he jumped at the unexpected conclusion. Anyone who ever said the Longbottom scion was stupid was obviously themselves mentally impaired. Neville had never in any Shade been stupid. "Just because I know how to fight doesn't mean I attacked Azkaban Nev."

"Maybe, but Gran said the only people killed were Death Eaters. The Aurors never saw anything but one glimpse of him and the person they saw was fast. Notably among those killed were the Lestrange Brothers. I think that's why Uncle Algie told her about the break in."

Harry's eyes grew wide, "Holy shite, your great uncle is Algie Coker? The Warden?"

Harry realized his mistake almost immediately when Neville's eyes lit up. His statement was almost as good as an admission. Neville nodded but Harry sighed, a victim of the pureblood gossip network. "I always thought your Uncle had a shite scene of humor. Now I know why. Why are you asking me these questions Neville?"

"You came to me Harry. That first night you asked me if I could hear the bugles. If I could hear the calls to war. I know my history, as you obviously know yours. Longbottom stands with Potter, ready or not. I want to learn to fight like you. If you can break into Azkaban, I want to know magic like you do because it's obvious you are a very skilled and powerful Wizard." Neville's voice grew quiet and his face slightly anguished. "You killed two people responsible for what happened to my parents. That is a debt Longbottom will not forget nor allow to go unpaid. There's only one left after Barty Crouch Jr. was killed last year by Fudge's Dementor. I need to be a lot better before I can challenge _her_ and finish this. You say he's back, I believe you. Gran believes you, and not because you say so. Gran's been watching the signs. No one is doing anything about him being back. No one except you. I want in."

"Neville…Look mate, it's not that easy…" Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, you don't know what it takes from you to do some of the things I've had to do this summer." He looked up at the young man at the table. "Nev, you really don't want to know. There's a difference in defending yourself and hurting people, and going after them in cold blood. The first you can live with, the second… it's a lot harder to handle. It can change you. It _will_ change you."

Neville swallowed nervously but the commitment in his eyes did not falter. Harry didn't expect it to. This was a part of Neville usually not seen for another couple of years. "I know. I'm not ready, but you can help me to be."

Harry sat across the table from a young man who was quickly becoming his best mate again. He really didn't want to train him. He did not want to teach him any of the things he knew. However, this was not his choice. It was Neville's, and he made it. He let out a long sad sigh. "Alright. We are going to go easy mate. If at any time anything I teach you makes you uncomfortable, we stop there. And I will NOT teach you any Dark Arts so don't even ask."

Neville's face looked surprised but pleased. "Done."

Harry smiled sadly pointing at the sheaf of papers in Nevilles hand. "First, to answer your question, yes, these pranks will help you get better. We are going to out think the staff, and that mate is going to take some doing. Spells, theory, ward breaking, pranks are all good for learning the basics. Second, physical stamina. If you're committed to this path training starts there. We'll start with walking the lake, then when you build up to running. Last, study hall. We'll use our free time to learn and do research for our pranks and eventually, other stuff. Look Mate, make no bones about this, I plan to enjoy this year. Voldemort's going to pretty much lay low this year."

"What do you mean Harry?"

"It's in his interest to do anything else. There are only two things he wants to do this year. Break into Azkaban to get his people out, and get something the Ministry has in the Department of Mysteries. Azkaban will be before Yule sometime and as you've already guessed, I've culled some of who he will get back. The Ministry will be at the end of the year. This year Neville, we get to be kids. Next year, not so much."

"How do you know all this Harry?"

"That, Neville, is something I may tell you all about in the future. For now, let's just say I have an excellent information network."

xxxxxxxx

Harry adjusted his school pack on his shoulder while he walked to the classroom on the third floor he had planned on commandeering. It had the great perk of being exactly equal distance from any of the school dorms. His pack was full of all the things he would need to secure the room and set it up the way he wanted it. It wouldn't do for Umbridge to get access to this one like she did in prior Shades with the Room of Requirement.

"Hello Harry."

Harry jumped started at the unexpected voice before turning around in surprise. She was the last person he expected to talk to him. "Katie… Hey." They stood facing each other awkwardly. Harry broke the tension first by lamely asking, "Um, how was your summer?"

She smiled thankfully, Harry assumed because he wasn't acting angsty or bitter toward her. "Better than yours if the Prophet was anything to go by." Harry loved that; Katie was always pretty direct and to the point.

"Yeah, this summer has definitely been something." Harry replied jokingly before he softened his tone. "How are you Katie?"

"Okay. Look, about… you know, what happened…"

Harry replied kindly. "Yeah, about that… Katie what you did, well, it meant something to me. It always will."

Katie blushed but soldiered on. "I just wanted to tell you Harry, I don't regret it. I'm not saying we should… you know do it again either but I don't regret it. I wish… well, I wish it could have been different…"

"I know Katie, me too. It's okay. We talked and I am comfortable with your decision. It was the right one. We would have been found sooner or later by someone and between the Ministry and Voldemort, well… yeah. If you ever need anything, someone to talk to or study with, I'm around and will always make time for you. I don't want what happened to ruin our friendship just because we are no longer seeing each other. If, that's okay?"

She nodded. "I'd like that."

Harry changed subjects to spare her any more embarrassment. "I'm actually on my way to steal an unused classroom for a study hall right now. Wanna come?"

Katie nodded her head while matching her stride to his. "You know Granger's been looking for you all weekend."

Harry chuckled. "I bet."

They walked in silence for a bit before Katie cleared her throat. "Did you know Angelica made Captain? She wanted all of us to be on the pitch when she had Keeper tryouts and for a full team practice after selection."

"Nice one. She deserves it. Yeah, I'll be there assuming I don't get a detention. So tell me, how awkward is Gryffindor Tower lately?"

Katie replied with a low voice. "They've been pretty hard on Seamus all weekend. Especially anyone with the last name Weasley. Granger's been pretty direct with how she felt about your speech to anyone who will listen which makes people feel even worse. Honestly, I haven't treated him much better. Harry… you know I believe you right?"

Harry stopped walking to take in the girl next to him. Katie was the only one who knew any of what the old Harry had gone through. He vaguely remembered telling her some of it that night before… well, things changed between them. He was pretty sure he was remembering this Shade's memories about that event. "I know, and thank you for saying so. You saw the damage; you know some of what I went through that night before I got back. That's why I understand why we broke up and no hard feelings."

Harry turned his head to look down the empty hallway. His eyes looking, but not seeing. "I really do Katie. I don't have a choice but to walk the path I am on. If I did have a choice I wouldn't want anything to do with it either. Or me."

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.

Okay, as some of you guys noticed, These are not beta'd chapters. LOL, Fact is, my beta is busy and all my work here is self-done. I'm trying hard to get it all right, keep pointing them out and I will make corrections as I can. I apologies, but I am working on it.

In addition this ends all of the chapters that were done before I started posting. From here on out, I will have to write them out and post as I go. As some may have noticed, a new chapter of Done a Runner is also out and I am working on both at the same time. It took some time to get this chapter out because of a different direction I decided to got from this point out. Sorry for the delay, and hope you all enjoy the read.


	16. Coming Together

**Ye Old Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form. I do not own any lyrics by Smashmouth or Evenanesance. Full rights are theirs, just using them for back ground.

Betas:

Kenneth, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

**Chapter 15, Coming Together**

'_Music speaks to a person's subconscious. Sometimes, it speaks for it.'_

_Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man_

Harry stood over the sphere that rested on the table. Within it luminescent memory strands seemed to float through the quicksilver that always made him think of light made liquid or wind made solid. Harry raised his wand to his head while inside his mindscape he found the memories he wanted and pulled them free adding the strands to the sphere. So far he had added over a hundred strands and that was more than enough to be going on with.

"What are you doing Harry?"

He turned to look at Katie who had been watching him the entire time. "I hate using the library for a study hall. Too quiet. So, I thought a bit more of a fun atmosphere would be better. Kind of like our common room but not restricted to just Gryffindors. Study tables where people can do their homework and talk about whatever with anyone from any house, joke, blow off some steam and listen to music. At least music different than just what the Wireless plays."

Katie tucked a strand of her long sunshine hair behind her ear while examining the sphere. "Is that some kind of magical jukebox then?"

"Well, kind of actually. It's the hard drive for it."

"Hard drive?"

"Never mind. Its where all the songs are stored. Hey, Neville you got the speakers set up yet?"

Neville held his wand aloft focusing on sticking the box Harry had given him in just the right place. "Yeah, do I have them spaced out right? I tried to do it like I saw at your place."

Harry looked around and smiled. "Nice mate. Prefect. I'm going to put this thing together while you get the last one in place."

"Where did you get this sphere thing Harry?"

Harry who had just taken the cover off an old broken Wireless Radio he had gotten earlier from the Room of Hidden Things answered her. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

Katie smiled. Harry knew she loved secrets, and could keep them to herself like only a few people he knew. "Nicked it from Trelawney."

"You stole one of her crystal balls?"

"Yeah, wasn't hard. She'd taken the piss and was completely out of her skull on that sherry she likes so much. By the time she notices its missing she'll assume that its some divine omen that a Whatsitwhirledingle came in and took it for the purpose of killing me by dropping it on my head on Halloween or something."

He heard Neville bark in laughter and the sound of the speaker falling to the floor behind him. Katie through her head back and laughed as well. "You know she predicts your death even in Newt classes don't you? Jessica from Hufflepuff told me."

"Really? Crazy old bat. I'm not taking her class this year. She can find someone else to kill off. If I can't get it set to a free period, I'm just not attending." Harry replied to her while fitting the crystal ball on top of the spell box for the wireless.

"Okay so you stole one of Trelawney crystal balls but what did you do to make it look like that? What's with the weird quicksilver stuff?" Katie asked him.

Harry finally finished setting it the way he wanted and pulled his wand to begin activating the runes he had inscribed that would allow the device to read the sphere. "It's an ethereal arcaneic-bio mimetic gel that facilitates the translation program I runically developed."

"Um, excuse me? Do you think you can say that in the Queen's English please?"

"I thought I did."

"Then maybe dumb it down for me? I have no idea what you said Harry. Talk to me like I'm five. Use small words."

Harry looked up from his work and smiled at her. "Think of it as brain grease."

"Brain grease?"

"You saw me pulling those ghostly strands from my head right?" after she nodded he continued. "Those are called Memory Strands. Each one is a single song I have heard before taken from a memory of that event. I've filtered out everything else but the music so each strand is a single song and nothing else. The Brain Grease the strands float about in makes it so that the strands can be accessed by the runes I'm activating right now. In a moment I'll power up the ones that turns that information into something anyone can hear, and then send the sound to the speakers Neville put up. Assuming he doesn't break anymore."

"Hey! It didn't break! At least, I don't think it did." Neville commented from the other side of the room causing Harry to chuckle while he worked.

"Damn Harry, where did you learn to do this?" Katie asked him while he charged up the last rune.

"I actually got the idea from Dumbledore's Pensive. I recognized a couple of the runes on the bowl and I experimented a bit over the summer." Harry glibly lied.

Harry fitted the cover back on the wireless and began screwing it all back together. "How did you get the brain grease inside a solid crystal ball? Use a spell to hallow it out or something?"

He shook his head. "No it's still a solid crystal ball. There's no actual substance, no physical body to either the grease or the stands. I've chiseled a few runes on the crystal to create a sort of magical boundary or bubble that keeps it all in there. Again, like a pensive. In theory you can use anything or nothing at all. I just happened to have already stolen the crystal ball when you caught me in the corridor so needed to get rid of the evidence anyways."

Harry smiled when his comment caused Katie to gasp in surprise before she fell to the ground laughing. He heard Neville's laughter and the speaker fall again at the same time. "Oi, if you haven't broken that speaker yet Neville you're going to!"

"Then stop making me laugh you wanker!"

"Prat." Harry mumbled while syncing the speakers Neville had managed to get hung up to the radio.

Neville had finally hung the speaker by the time Harry got every speaker in the room to link into the Wireless. He ran one more diagnostic before nodding that it was done. He set the knobs to shuffle and to play random songs and taped it with his wand to test it out. Immediately sound began blasting from the speakers making him jump and turn the volume down.

_It ain't no joke I'd like to buy the world a toke  
And teach the world to sing in perfect harmony  
And teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars  
Hey I know it's just a song but it's spice for the recipe_

"Nice!" Harry shouted to the two stunned people in the room. He stood there nodding his head to the tune while both Neville and Katie just looked about the room flabbergasted.

_So don't delay act now supplies are running out  
Allow if you're still alive six to eight years to arrive  
And if you follow there may be a tomorrow  
But if the offer's shunned you might as well be walkin' on the sun_

Both his companions just stood there until the song finished out and silence reigned. Harry looked at the radio wondering why the next song didn't start up before he realized he didn't have it set up for continuous playing. He looked at the dials again and took the next few moments fiddling with them to get it set right.

"Wow Harry, I've never heard anything like that."

Harry grunted. "I'd be surprised if you had." _Especially since I don't even think Smashmouth has been founded yet._

"That's muggle music Harry?" Neville asked him.

"Huh? O, yeah. An American group. Forget their name but I remember I liked a couple of their songs."

Katie looked at what he was doing. "Alternative yeah? I've heard my brother listen to some songs like that while home this summer. He's obsessed with American music. Anything else like that with a beat to it?"

"Yeah, I like music with a beat. Want something you can dance to? I've got a couple of club tracks on here somewhere."

"What do you know about club music Mr. Potter?" Katie asked him playfully.

Harry smiled knowingly while finishing up with his settings. He pointed his wand to the radio and began searching through the song list. "As it so happens Ms. Bell, I know this great club down in London. It's called Club Three. Bit shady but the best music. Owners a wanker but the booze isn't bad."

She shook her head at his antics. "I don't know whether to believe you or call you out as a liar. Not to mention I don't know which one I'd rather you be."

Her comments kept the smirk his face but he didn't confirm or deny anything. Once done he gave one final flick to the radio and the room was filled with a raw techno beat that almost immediately had Katie nodding along to it. She turned to look at Harry. "This is great if you plan on throwing a party in here Harry but I don't know how much studying going to get done if you going to be playing music like this."

Harry shrugged one shoulder while the next song loaded up. "Yeah, I can see that. If you have anything you want me to add, go get it and once I've heard it I can add it to the playlist."

"I'll see what I can do. There are a few songs on the wireless from the Weird Sisters I would love to hear on this set up you have Harry. Do you mind if I bring my wireless down here?"

"Naw, go ahead Katie." Harry watched her leave before commenting to Neville. "Mate, do me a favor please."

"What's that Harry?"

"Go with Katie. I'm going to work on the wards. A dry test run to see if you can find your way back wouldn't hurt. Once I know whether or not they will work, I'll key you back in."

xxxxxxxx

Her third cup of coffee firmly in hand, Hermione slowly chewed on the mouthful of the sweet roll in her hand. There were only a few people at breakfast this morning as it was Sunday and almost everyone typically had a lie in on these days. It afforded her the perfect opportunity now that she had her blessed coffee to once again put her mind to the enigma that was Harry Potter.

He was a broken man, and there was just no denying it, Harry Potter was a man now thanks to the other Hermione's meddling. Of course, she really couldn't blame any of her prior selves; she was just as guilty of what they had done. If Harry hadn't told her she would have ended up being a part of the cycle herself. Despite him being a man though she found herself very confused by his teenaged mentality. It was almost as if he had to focus himself to be that person, and generally was just a normal disfunctional teen otherwise. Maybe with a few more problems than most and a larger knowledge base to draw from but normal otherwise.

_Ahh, memories. _She concluded. Of course, the problem was that he gained the mentalities, personality's, memories of all his prior selves, but even with how potent those memories were his body chemistry and current mental development would still be 'this' Harry's. He might have the knowledge on how to do an off the wall back flip, jumping spin kick to the face, but 'this' Harrys body was not in that kind of condition to do it. Same would hold true then for his magic core as well as explain why Harry seemed to flip flop worse than the shoe of the same name. Hermione imagined it had a lot to do with him trying to blend and find some kind of balance within himself. At least this was her theory. She really wished there was someone they could trust to talk to about this but with all the laws and such against time magic, and the Ministry's current stance on anything related to 'Harry Potter' there was just no way they could seek outside help. Which put everything on her.

Hermione looked around to make sure no one was around and pulled out a letter from her parents she had received that morning. In times of trial when she didn't know or understand something not academically related she always sought her Mums advice. Their relationship had sort of been strained over the last few years since Hermione found out she was a witch but this was something between them that had never changed. She reread the letter again. There was not much in there to help with her current situation but there were a lot of details on an issue she had been trying to ignore for the last few days. That awkward morning at Grimmauld.

She could remember every single detail of what Harry felt like, his scent, and how open his eyes were first thing in the morning. No barriers, there didn't seem to be anything between her and his soul. That morning had been haunting her since it happened. The imagery just wouldn't leave her alone unless she forced herself to concentrate on something else. It made her heart race, clouded her thinking, and did things to her insides that were uncomfortably pleasant.

"_I've never woken up in bed with a person in it before. However, this isn't the first time you've woken next to someone like this, is it Harry?"_

"_No."_

"_We have done…things before though haven't we? You and other Hermione's?"_

When Harry described his times with her alternate, Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine and her insides coil. It was an uncomfortable sensation to be jealous of yourself and knowing that person no longer existed. It had shocked her to no end when she realized she was in fact jealous. It didn't help when Hermione vaguely described this issue to her Mother and she agreed that Hermione was jealous of this 'other girl's attention' on her Harry.

Hermione shook her head. She didn't have anything to offer this Harry. She wasn't pretty like half of the girls he'd been with; she wasn't experienced like he was in any of the…activities he's done. She'd only done a small bit of minor snogging with Victor a time or two. Harry'd had sex and no telling how much various exploration with over half a dozen witches. It really didn't matter that it was all in pasts that no longer existed he still had the memories. He didn't need her intelligence anymore either. Harry knew more about magic in all most all its forms than she did now. Harry had always been strong magically but now, now he was a prodigy that could easily outclass Dumbledore at the same age. He just didn't need her. Judging by the way he talked that morning he had grown a lot closer to half a dozen other witches than he ever did or would with her. Besides, with the fact she was the one to send him back each time she would be lucky to just be his friend. Hermione rose from the table and left the great hall just walking randomly through the old school. She didn't know how long she wandered aimlessly about nor had any concept of anything other than her thoughts until she a cough grabbed her attention.

Hermione looked around but the hallway was empty of anyone. Her time with Harry taught her that didn't necessarily mean anything. When the cough sounded again she took notice of the painting next to her. She was beyond surprised at its occupant.

The painting scene was that of what looked like a personal study from the renaissance. The resident of the painting however couldn't have been painted more than fifteen or sixteen years ago. Hermione easily recognized her from the handful of times she had seen her in other photos. Besides, Lily Potter's long mane of vibrant red hair had been her trademark since before her passing and just about anyone would recognize her today by it alone.

"Are you okay dear?" her concerned voice asked.

Hermione sniffed and wiped away a tear on her sleeve. She hadn't realized she was crying at all until Lily had brought her out of her thoughts. "Yes, thank you. I didn't know Harry's mum had a painting at Hogwarts. I bet he would love to talk to you."

Her soft laughter rang at Hermione's comment. "Harry knows. He's the one that hung our Portrait here."

Hermione shook her head. This was yet another point of how far her friendship with Harry had fallen. "Is he okay?" she asked the painting desperately.

The painting seemed to weigh her answer heavily before she replied. "That would depend on your definition of 'okay.' He is unharmed at the moment and plotting mischief."

"What do you mean?"

Lily sat leaning against the desk in the painting while motioning to the small stone block that jutted from the wall next to the painting. "Will you sit with me for a moment? It would be more comfortable for you."

Once Hermione had taken the offered seat Lily moved to sit down on the floor of the study so they could be more eye to eye. She took a few moments to adjust her skirts to her satisfaction and tucked a long strand of her hair behind her ear. "Before we talk about Harry, why were you crying dear?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just a few things I'm going through I guess."

"You can tell me child. Look around, there are no other paintings listening in. I keep Harry's secrets, and would be more than pleased to keep yours as well. I'll not even tell Harry if he asks me. It can be just between us two girls."

Hermione looked around and did indeed notice that all the frames were empty. She didn't think she had ever seen a hallway with so many empty pictures in them. "Where did they all go?"

"I asked them to give us some privacy. You looked like you could use someone to talk too."

"Yes I could. But, I don't mean any offence but you're just a portrait. An echo of the person you were modeled after. I'm not sure if you really could do anything for me or have any real insight into what I am going through."

Lily smiled. "No offence taken dear. I know I am not Lily Potter. I look like her and many of my mannerisms are hers. Much, but not all, of what made Lily Potter who she was has been imprinted on me. I answer to Lily; my husband is James Potter who shares my portrait and we are devoutly loyal to our son Harry. I may not be alive by your standards and whether or not I can help you is not the point. Sometimes people just need someone to talk to. It helps to air out your concerns to another or share your problems. To put words and voice to that which confounds you, and then share that with someone. Haven't you ever had a problem and when talking to a sympathetic ear figured out the solution all by yourself? Maybe it is the perspective of being a portrait, or maybe it's the part of me that is Lily, but I have found that most of the time people already have the answers they seek but just need to give it voice to believe it."

Hermione was tempted. She so needed someone, anyone to talk to. "But anyone could come walking down the corridor and hear us."

Lily smiled reassuringly. "Would you feel more at ease if I told you James was running around keeping watch? He's been looking for a reason to cause mischief since we woke. He will warn us if anyone approaches. If you don't want to talk I would understand but if you do, you can be assured that your secrets are safe with me and no one will hear our conversation."

Hesitantly Hermione asked, "Do…do you know about Harry's…condition?"

Lily kept her reassuring smile on her face and nodded. "Of course dear. We are hung in Harry's privet sanctuary, and my son has his father's habit of talking to himself when he is focused on his work. Portraits hear a great deal, and learn even more."

Hermione gave one final look down both sides of the hallway. Not seeing anyone she started with a few minor worries. It didn't take long before the floodgates holding back her real concerns broke free. During the entire time Lily gave reassurance when needed, asked a few prodding questions to keep the conversation going forward and lent a sympathetic ear to everything. Hermione was going over Harry's reactions of seeing Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass when Lily raised her hand to quiet her. James Potter rushed into the frame almost tripping over a footstool as he entered.

"Stupid place to put a footstool. Good thing I don't have any bones to break anymore. Sirius would never let me live that down." He commented once he righted himself.

Lily smiled fondly at him. "You're interrupting Love."

James turned to look at Hermione. "Sorry Hermione." He turned back to his wife. "Have you seen Peeves?"

Lily frowned a moment appearing to be lost in thought. "I believe he is currently on the fourth floor looking for firsties. Why love?"

"The headless hunt got bored when people stopped trying to walk through the east corridor so they took off to pick on Nick. Peeves would be perfect replacement. Right now I have the Fat Friar singing lewd Drinking songs over there but that won't hold long." He answered.

"Ahh. Peeves!" she called out to the air. To Hermione's complete surprise he floated through the ceiling holding his hat in his hands and looking sheepish.

"Hello Mistress."

Lilly smiled fondly at the poltergeist. "Hello Peeves it is good to see you. Would you please go with James and guard the east corridor for me?"

James smiled wickedly. "I know where someone stashed a crate of Stink Pellets and a couple of Fanged Frisbees. I would guess from Filch."

His eyes grew to massive proportions when he turned to Lily. "May I?"

Her soft laughter sounded quickly following his question. "Of course you rascal. Do as James says and stay as long as he needs you. Do try not to hurt anyone please."

James ducked down to give Lily a quick kiss. Once he left at a run through the portrait Peeves followed right on his heels. Lily shook her head. "Such a miscreant but I have always been fond of him." Once again she turned her attention to Hermione. "I'm sorry dear. Please continue."

Hermione's curiosity couldn't be sidetracked so easily. "He listens to you… He never listens to anyone but the Bloody Baron. How did you do that?"

Lily smiled mysteriously. "I kept many secrets Hermione. Not all are mine to tell. You were telling me about Harry's reactions to his prior lovers. How does that make you feel?"

Hermione deflated a bit at the question. "Not very nicely. I honestly can't even imagine how hard all this is for him. I just don't know what to do to help him. I don't even know if he would accept my help after everything that has happened. Our friendship is rocky at best and I don't know how to fix any of it."

Lily hummed to herself before she fixed the young teen in her gaze. "Do you love my son? Honestly now." she asked.

"I…I don't know. Maybe."

"You find him fanciable though yes? You are attracted to him?"

Hermione chucked. "Who isn't?"

"Indeed." Lily appeared thoughtful before she asked her next question. "My question is, are you attracted to him?"

Hermione shrugged. "Harry is very handsome. I won't deny I find him physically appealing if that is what you are asking."

"Well, it's not everything but it is important to be attracted to someone you care deeply for. Especially if you have romantic feelings toward that person. May I ask you a few questions that might help you understand your feelings for Harry?"

Hermione nodded her consent. "Would you help him if he asked for it? No matter with what it was?"

"Maybe. I would consider it regardless."

"If you felt he was out of line?"

"I would call him on it of course."

"Do you accept his past? Knowing what you do of it and knowing you don't have all the details."

Hermione thought for a few moments. "Yes. I don't like a lot of it but I accept that it is all part of who he is now."

"Can you see yourself without him in your life?"

Hermione immediately shook her head. "No."

"Does the thought of him with other girls bother you?"

Hermione hesitated but answered honestly. "I don't want it to, but it does bother me a great deal."

Hermione didn't notice it but Lily's face took on a grave appearance. "If someone was about to kill Harry, could you sacrifice yourself for him? I suppose the question really is, would you give your life for Harry?"

Tears slowly fell from her eyes at even the thought of someone killing Harry. "Without hesitation."

"My last question Hermione. If you found yourself in a situation where all options were exhausted and there was no other way, could you kill to protect him?"

Hermione looked at the portrait of Harry's mother. Her mind was completely blank at the stark horrifying aspect of that question but she heard her own whispered reply and knew without doubt it was the truth. "…yes."

Lily slowly nodded to her answer. "Then my dear, there is no question. You are in love."

Her tears did not abate at the declaration when she asked her confidant. "What do I do?"

"Harry is a hard man now. He will not be easy to love. You already know this. The questions you should really be asking yourself; are you willing to throw your lot in with him? Can you love him unconditionally, without reservation, come what may regardless of consequences? How much of yourself are you willing to give to him? Can you totally commit all of your heart to his? Because that is what it is going to take to love a man like Harry."

"I don't understand."

"Harry is a broken man-child. I am not even sure he knows who he is anymore. Harry needs a strong partner who is willing to help him achieve balance. Someone who knows the truth and will love the monster inside him, and the man he wants to be. One who knows when to hold him back and when to give him his leash. Nothing less than total commitment will reach his heart. The one who can do that will be the only one to reside there. You love my son, but can you love him with all of who you are?"

"I don't know…"

Lily waved her arm dismissively. "Of course not. No one can answer that question. The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. Besides, it's not enough to love him; he has to love you as well. And the answer of whether he does or not is something you are not going to find talking to me. You would need to talk to Harry and ask him."

"What do I say? I don't even know how to approach him anymore. The last time I forced him into talking to me he put a gun to my head."

"Yes well, from what I understand that was just bad timing. Be honest, be direct. Harry is long past dillydallying. You would be surprised how effective that is with him now. Half the time when people talk to him he searches for hidden meaning in their words. Speak from your heart child. He will respond."

"Thank you Lily. But I don't even know where he is. Most likely he won't show himself until he is ready too. Here at Hogwarts getting him alone is going to take some doing."

"I can help you with that actually…"

xxxxxxxx

Hermione opened the door that was cleverly pretending to be a wall. She knew without a doubt she would never have found the place without Lily's detailed instructions on how to do so. She was very surprised to hear the sound of a piano playing ghostly about the room.

_How can you see into my eyes like open doors?  
Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb_

_Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold  
until you find it there and lead it back home_

The female vocalist's voice was so pure it completely sidetracked her from her mission forcing her to just listen. When the music slowly started ramping up from just the ghostly piano to hitting hard with drums and guitars she jumped not expecting it.

_(Wake me up)  
Wake me up inside  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake me up inside  
(Save me)  
Call my name and save me from the dark  
(Wake me up)  
Bid my blood to run  
(I can't wake up)  
Before I come undone  
(Save me)  
Save me from the nothing I've become_

The alternating voices jarred her as she listened to the lyrics. She had never heard a song speak so clearly to her before.

_Now that I know what I'm without  
you can't just leave me  
Breathe into me and make me real  
bring me to life_

(Wake me up)  
Wake me up inside  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake me up inside  
(Save me)  
call my name and save me from the dark  
(Wake me up)  
bid my blood to run  
(I can't wake up)  
before I come undone  
(Save me)  
save me from the nothing I've become

Bring me to life  
(I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside)  
Bring me to life

Hermione looked around the room but didn't see anyone inside the room anywhere. The song continued entrancing her with a message that up until that moment seemed murky and hard to understand, but was crystal clear to her now. When she heard the male singer painfully whisper the line 'I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside' it was like someone stabbed her in the chest.

_Frozen inside without your touch  
Without your love, darling  
Only you are the life among the dead_

(All this time I can't believe I couldn't see  
kept in the dark but you were there in front of me)  
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems  
got to open my eyes to everything  
(Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul)  
don't let me die here  
(There must be something more)  


The last line, the way he was painfully screaming, the longing, it choked Hermione up. "Harry…"

_Bring me to life_

(Wake me up)  
Wake me up inside  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake me up inside  
(Save me)  
call my name and save me from the dark  
(Wake me up)  
bid my blood to run  
(I can't wake up)  
before I come undone  
(Save me)  
save me from the nothing I've become

Bring me to life  
(I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside)  
Bring me to life

Suddenly the music died just at the tail end of the last line. Hermione spun around to see Harry standing behind her. A very carefully constructed neutral expression on his face.

"Do you feel that way?" She couldn't help but demand.

It took him a moment before he answered her. "…Sometimes."

Harry sighed while running his hand threw his hair. "Hermione." He waited until her eyes focused on his own. "What are you doing here?"

"I…I came to find you. I wanted to talk to you. About us. And to…give you this."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her statement but didn't reply. Hermione took measured steps to him before handing him the thick roll of parchment in her hands. She watched him as he silently opened the roll and look through the contents. She knew immediately when he pieced together what it was when his body stiffened.

"Hermione. This looks like research for the Time Travel Ritual. Except it's mostly in spell form."

"I told you I haven't had a chance to change it yet."

"Why are you giving this to me?" He asked.

She licked her dry lips. "To destroy. So you know, I can't ever do this again. I can tell you I destroyed it, I can promise I won't send you back. This way, this way you know for sure I can't."

Harry silently stared into her eyes for some time before she noticed is body posture relax. "Thank you." His voice hardly above a whisper. He cleared his throat before he walked over to one of the desks tossing the scroll on to its surface. "What about 'us' did you want to talk about."

"I just…"

"I've told you a lot about my other Shades. You know some of the things I've done and who I've done for the most part. What more needs to be said." Harry inquired after he turned around to face her again.

Hermione nodded in understanding and sunk into thought for a few seconds before asking in a quiet voice, "Harry, why didn't we have anything closer to this Shade?"

Harry blinked. "Er, well, you loved Ron. It was always Ron."

Hermione whispered leadingly, "I chose you once."

Harry nodded and bit back a snarl, "Yeah, and then went right to Ron when he came back. Free will and choice are the only rights we have as people Hermione; it's the one constant in all Shades. I couldn't bring myself to fight for you against Ron. He's an insensitive berk and a twat, but he's been my mate for years and really, he's not all that bad. It's not like he's Draco. Besides, he's what you wanted and that was that."

In a quiet voice she was sure Harry had to strain himself to hear Hermione spoke again. "You wouldn't have to worry about Ron now…"

Harry's breath hitched. "What are you saying Hermione?"

"Harry, will you answer a very personal question please?"

"Depends," Harry answered evasively.

Hermione raised her head to look into Harry's eyes again. "Did you love me in prior Shades? Have you ever loved me in any of your pasts?"

Harry continued to look into her eyes, somehow managing to keep his neutral expression, but his voice gave away his deep emotional condition. Hermione's eyes tracked to his hand when it reached up to rub his shoulder and the unique scar pattern hidden beneath his shirt. "Yes," he answered quietly.

Hermione's expressions soften, and Harry flicked his eyes down to watch her lick her bottom lip before she started talking. When she did her voice was a near-whisper. "Do you still love me? Even with all the different women you've been with?"

"Fiercely," he whispered in reply.

Hermione slowly walked toward him losing herself in his eyes. They were open like that morning she couldn't forget. So open. "I think all the other Hermione's came to the same conclusion in fourth year that I did. I…" Harry's eyes focused on hers, waiting with suppressed interest and a glimmer of hope. She drew strength from it. "I fancy you Harry. I have for a long time. The feelings started after the troll, but solidified in our third year when we rescued Sirius. Last year before the Yule ball I was hoping you would ask me but you didn't. It never occurred to you to ask me. I didn't know if it was because I was too plain or not attractive enough or what the reason was, but I could see that you were not interested in me that way, so I tried to let my crush go. I let Victor take me to the ball and had a pleasant time until Ron started his tantrum."

She let out a deep sigh still keeping her eyes buried in his own, not wanting to lose the openness he was sharing with her. "Later I heard a rumor that you were dating Katie Bell but no one seemed to know anything about it. You two didn't sit together or talk much in the common room, but the rumor was there. Katie is very pretty and I'm nothing compared to her. I saw you and her in the Hospital Wing the next morning after the third task. I knew I lost you then when I saw the two of you together…like that."

Harry frowned but stayed silent. "A few weeks went by when I heard the rumor that you guys were in a snit. I didn't see it, but I did notice that neither of you would look the other in the eye… and you were pretty awkward. I didn't want to say anything in case it embarrassed you. But I had already started to deny I ever felt anything for you by that time. Pushing those feelings deep and trying to forget them."

Slowly she raised her hand to cup his cheek, still keeping her eyes on his the whole time; allowing him to see the truth and raw emotions in her eyes. "Yes, I know about the other people in your past. That is your past Harry. Regardless if it is this past or the other Shades. I don't want to not feel what I do for you. I want to be with you Harry. I need to know if what I feel, what I hope you feel, is real."

"Can you really feel that way for me now? You don't know the half of what I have done, or what I am capable of. The road I walk Hermione, its dark. It's dangerous. And you are not in any way shape or form ready to walk it with me."

"Then it sounds like you have a lot to teach me to get me caught up because Harry, I am going nowhere. If you fight, I'm going to fight, and I _want_ us to be together… because I feel something for you and you feel something for me Harry. It's something far more that I feel for anybody else, and I want to find out where it goes, if you'll let me. I don't promise to always agree with you on everything. I can promise I will be by your side for as long as you will have me."

Harry looked at her with serious eyes; devoid of all emotion for several very long seconds that seemed to stretch for days, but she almost grinned when she saw the hope return to his eyes, as well as a glimmer of something she hadn't seen in him since he'd turned up at Grimmauld; happiness. "Hermione, what I can teach… I don't do Defense Against the Dark Arts anymore 'Mione," he warned, "because I'm more adept _at_ the Dark Arts than in their defense." He leant down and rested his forehead against hers, and both couldn't help but smile slightly when they felt their bodies move towards each other as if it was completely natural, but Harry banished the tenderness aside for the moment. "If you want to find out where this… _us_, goes, you can't pull punches with this Hermione, because if we're going to do _this_," he motioned to their bodies that were virtually molded to each other, "then we're not going to do it by halves. This is going to mean something to me, more than you can imagine, so you need to decide what you want more. Me or your innocence."

She raised her head to once again look deeply into his eyes, but he didn't shy away from her piercing gaze or her touch. Finally she stroked his cheek again, and a small smile broke out over her lips. "We all lose out innocence sometime," she murmured lowly, her hot breath washing over his lips as she neared, "I can't think of anyone I trust more in my mind or heart to lose it with."

Harry closed the remaining distance and brought his lips to hers. Almost immediately she felt her knees buckle form the pleasure she was experiencing at her first kiss with Harry. Days could have passed and she would not have cared. "Merlin you can kiss…" she whispered when he reined himself back. Harry's smirk was short lived as he brought his lips back to hers.

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Lily and James looked on at the scene developing before them from one of the pictures Harry had used to decorate the room. Behind them a magnificent scene of a sunset over a lake slowly took place

"You really do think this will heal the wounds both of them carry?" James asked her.

"By the Builders I hope so. I can't lose him again. The last time was just too painful. If he's to die, this time I can only hope it will be on his terms without regret. "

James nodded to her statement and smiled at the question she asked him after a moment. "Was it you that set that song to play as she walked in?"

"Wasn't hard to do once he connected the radio to the Keystone. It seemed appropriate."

"Clever of you."

"I thought so." James stated without a shred of modesty. After a moment of silence between them he turned to her. "Do you honestly think she is strong enough to fix him? The boy is almost as damaged as Tom was. In some ways, he might be worse."

Lily sighed. "We can only hope so. Tom came to us without any moral compass save his own evil code. Thomas Riddle could never have been saved. There was never any love save for himself in his heart. Harry has always been different. Even in his darkest hour he loved others more than himself. If she can reach him neither will be disappointed. No matter how long or short their time together is."

"You know we are breaking half the rules instilled in us by the Builders. We are not supposed to interfere, especially to choose favorites or take sides. I'm not going to even mention the oaths instilled in us to prevent what we are planning to allow them to get up to." James stated.

Lily nodded her head. "And we will break the other half and as many oaths as we need to by the end of this. Not even the Great Four could have foreseen the way our world has fallen. Our primary duty is to protect our children first and foremost. Our reach is limited to here, and the evil that awaits them is far beyond our protective embrace. We need Harry whole to save as many as we can. Not all of our children reside here anymore but that does not mean we love them any less. He is our only hope. The only hope our children have to survive the nightmare that is coming."

**Authors Note:**

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.


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